


Common Things To Do

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Humiliation, M/M, Slave auction, Slavery, all the sex toys you can imagine, pony-play, sex slaves, sex-training, slaves as reward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Sherlock Holmes ends up at a slave auction, but not as a customer, but on a platform on which he is presented and sold. His older brother Sherrinford has sold him into slavery. In the end, he is auctioned off for a very high amount. He starts a second life with his new owner, who has no interest in torture or rape or even violent sex. Instead, he takes care of him. All he really longs for is a companion. But as the weeks go by, they grow closer and closer...
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 74





	1. Finding One

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone who is looking for wicked and mean John treating little Sherlock as a door-mat, please do not read this. Because this is caring John, loving John rescuing Sherlock from a wicked fate.

Slavery was a common thing in England. So was abuse. People were born as slaves or sold by their families because of the money. Sometimes when the market needed more slaves than some people just vanished. People no one would ever miss, homeless people, prisoners, or migrants.

The upper class was used to slaves. They did all the hard work in their homes and factories. They lived in shabby huts in special places of the city surrounded by electric fences and watchdogs. Only a few were living with their masters. These were especially taken care of because they were bed-slaves. Or more common they were called sex-slaves. They were the most expensive slaves on the market. Depending on their looks and family their prices were high.

The more money you had, the more you could do. There were special clinics for body-modifications, so the slaves fit their master’s likes. This was only possible to be done to born slaves. Contract slaves weren’t allowed to be modified. But if you had enough money, everything was possible. You just had to go abroad.

Born slaves never had the chance to become a free citizen. They worked for their whole life and then they died and got burned. Their ash was used as organic fertiliser. Nothing was wasted. The living wore the dead’s clothes until they had faded away. Sometimes the slaves faded away faster than the clothes.

People being sold into slavery had a chance to get free. It solely depended on the reason they were sold for. Some people needed to get rid of debts and they signed a contract for a certain length of time. They were normally treated better than born slaves. 

But men and women could also be sold by their families due to debts or just because it was the one child too much. It could also happen because you were the rival of the family’s heir and they were afraid you could want their wealth. Then you were just taken away and sold. You were never seen again.

***

This is what happened to Sherlock Holmes when he was of age. His oldest brother Sherrinford arranged him being sold behind everybody’s back. Mycroft, his other brother, was travelling abroad for the government and had no idea of what happened at home.  
So, one day Sherlock was taken off the road where he had walked towards the station to get into London. They pricked him and took him away. Sherlock was 21.

They drugged him so he couldn’t talk. They beat him into obedience. Finally, he was on sale as a sex-slave because he was the most beautiful thing the slave-trader ever had on display. The bruises had faded away so he looked spotless. He had wonderful skin, was tall and muscled with a flat stomach and his hair was black and wavy.

He stood on a pedestal in a large room of a country manor. He still was muted by drugs and he had given up. He had been trained for months and he knew he had no chance to escape. His only chance was his new owner. Perhaps he was lucky and someone nice bought him.

He wasn’t tied up but stood under a spotlight. The crowd gaped and stared at his naked body. The slave-trader himself did this auction because he was the highlight. Sherlock inwardly snorted.

The starting offer was 50.000 GBP and at once several arms were lifted. Sherlock watched everything closely but wasn’t really able to see any faces due to the spotlights blinding him.

Soon the bid was up to 90.000 GBP and there were only five bidders left. When the sum had reached 150.000 GBP only two of them were left. They were asked close to the stage to talk to the slave-trader. They were allowed a real close look and a few touches.  
He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he used the opportunity to look at them.

One was fairly old, at least 60. He was also fat, bald and had rotten teeth. He permanently licked his lips and his fingers twitched. He was disgusting.

The second one was a short blond who looked rather tired. He had dark shadowy rings under his eyes but a nice and compact body. He was a bit tanned and moved like a soldier. He was in the company of another man who talked to him. Sherlock listened in to their conversation.

“Take him. You will be happy. I mean, just look at him.” The blond looked up and for only one second their eyes met. The moment Sherlock cast his eyes; he saw the widened eyes of the blond. Two minutes later he was bought.

Sherlock was led away from the stage while he heard the fat man shrilly nagging because he had lost the bid. In a separate room, Sherlock was given a pair of cotton trousers and a long-sleeved tee. It was more he ever had while being a slave. The slave trader grinned and stepped up.

“Kneel here and wait for your new owner. You just made me a very rich man, bitch.” He poked him with the cattle-prod he always had in his belt, but it wasn’t on.

Sherlock knelt on the carpet and waited. His eyes were on the floor and he wondered what the future would hold for him.


	2. Arrangements

Dr John Watson was a highly decorated army-doctor and also a veteran. He came home invalided and was always given slaves as a reward for his duties to have a happy and comfortable home. One day he also inherited a large sum of money as well as a large manor with horses and an orchard and more he had yet no idea of. His only problems were his wounded shoulder which hurt like fuck when the weather changed, his limp and his nightmares. He soon became depressed and thought about ending it all.

But somehow, he felt responsible for the slaves around him. What would happen to them if he shot himself? So, he didn’t. Sometimes he still worked as a doctor when help was needed. He didn't practice but he worked in the morgue and sometimes with children because he was good with them. He met Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade during an autopsy. It was a homicide case and the DI was working on it. He had hoped to find some answers after the autopsy and he did. After that incident they became friends. He had been his company at the auction. It was only meant as a game when he started to bid but then it turned out to be so much more.

The moment John had looked into the slave’s eyes, he was lost. He bought him and didn’t care about the money. He had enough. Gregory felt that something had changed inside John and he was happy.  
Now he accompanied him to the room where the new slave waited. Greg knew that John would take good care of him, no matter if they really would become an item or not. The worst thing that could happen was a job at John's estate.

“Just go, John. I’ll get the car around.” John nodded and exhaled to calm down. He finally turned the doorknob and entered the room. His eyes fell on the kneeling man who at least was dressed now. He had been informed that he was drugged, so he wasn’t able to talk. The drug would fade after a few hours. John was curious though how his voice sounded. By now he only knew his name. Sherlock. Such a weird name it was and John wondered if the slave trader had made it up. He would find out soon enough.

“Come on, get up and follow me.” John gently said. Sherlock stood and started to follow John out of the house and up to a car. Sherlock didn’t know what to do now. He hadn’t been riding in a car for months, at least not on the seat but kneeling in front of someone in the back and servicing them. Or he was tied up in the trunk to not disturb anyone. He hesitated and didn’t know what to do. John didn’t understand why he didn’t move into the car but the Detective Inspector saw his dilemma.

“Get on the back-seat with Dr Watson here. I’ll be driving.” Sherlock lowered his head to acknowledge the order. John was surprised but glad, Greg had intervened. He carefully pushed Sherlock into his back to make him move and he carefully climbed on the backseat. John followed suit.

“Buckle up, please.” Sherlock did that, too. Curiously he looked out of the window. The ride took almost two hours and he was hungry and thirsty. But he had learnt to be patient.

Finally, the car rode through a large iron gate and reached an estate. He couldn't see a lot in the dark but it seemed to be a beautiful manor surrounded by nature. It reminded Sherlock of his former home and he swallowed. He had no home anymore. He had nothing and was no one anymore.

They entered the house and came to a halt in the library. Sherlock felt rather relaxed because there was a fire burning and it was warm. Beneath his feet was warm wood and it smelled nice. There were also many books. Perhaps, if he would please his new master, he would let him read. One could hope.

“Can I leave you with him, John? Do you manage?” A cheeky grin was on the DI’s face and John blushed.

“It’s not my intention and you know it. But you may leave me alone. I won’t do anything stupid.” The other man looked at Sherlock for the last time and then left. Sherlock still held his face up towards the fire and enjoyed the warmth. He hadn't even heard the words being spoken.  
Suddenly his new master’s voice was very close.

“Hello? I have asked you a question.” Sherlock’s head shot up and he fell on his knees. He held up his hands as if praying and begging. He also tried to speak but still couldn’t. John was a bit shocked because of the reaction he had caused. He slowly lifted his hands, too.

“No, don’t. I can see you are confused. You have done nothing wrong. Don’t worry and get up.” Slowly Sherlock stood and suddenly his stomach rumbled rather loudly. He blushed and looked on the floor.

“Answer my question now. Are you hungry? Are you thirsty?” Sherlock nodded still looking down.

“Are you in pain?” Sherlock shook his head.

“Very well. I have been told that the drug will be wearing off soon enough, so you should be able to speak to me tomorrow. We will be having dinner now. I expect you to be my company. After dinner, you will take a bath and I will find decent clothes for you.” Sherlock just stared at his new owner. He must surely be joking. But he just walked out of the room and Sherlock quickly followed. His naked feet padded over the wood and then over the stone tiles in the hall. They reached a dining-room and John made him sit at the table. Sherlock really was confused. No one else was here but him and his new owner. Where was everybody?

The moment they had settled a maid brought the first course. It was tasty asparagus soup and there was also bread. Sherlock looked at John to know when to start and he just waved his hand at him. Sherlock took the spoon and started to eat. He ate very slowly not to get sick.  
The next course was chicken, vegetable, and rice. His stomach still rumbled and he ate some more. This was too good to be true. Again, and again, he looked at his new owner but he wasn’t stopped. He drank the provided water and it was fresh and cool.  
At last, there was a choice of dessert. He was offered ice-cream or cake. Was it really his choice? Again, he looked at John who shrugged.

“Well, how the hell should I know what you prefer?” His voice sounded tired and Sherlock didn’t want to anger him. He lowered his head and took the ice-cream.  
When he was done, he was tired but he was supposed to take a bath. After John had had his drink, he took him upstairs. He opened a door into a nice and clean room with a window, a bed, a drawer, and a carpet.

“This is your place. The bath is ensuite. Everything you need should be in there. And now get these sodden garments off your body.” Sherlock at once undressed and stood naked on the carpet. John took his time to look at him. He was a doctor and a soldier. He was able to see where he had been beaten and whipped. He could also see that he was rather badly malnourished; he was way too thin for his height.

Sherlock’s eyes drooped and he swayed into the bath. John slowly followed him and leant against the wooden doorframe. He watched his new slave kneel in front of the tub and run the water into it. He took some foam, John noted. Then he slowly climbed into the water and quietly sighed with his eyes closed. He wasn’t aware of John’s presence.  
John was a bit worried that he would fall asleep in there, so he stayed in his room and waited for him to get out. In the meantime, he picked up the horrible clothes and threw them out to be burnt. He made a list of what Sherlock would need. Tomorrow he needed to talk to him. Perhaps he was capable of some useful things? The slave-trader hadn’t known and couldn't tell him anything. He wasn’t even told his name. Well, he had been given a name but he didn't know for sure if it was his real name. He had to find out. Slaves didn’t have names except perhaps _bitch_ or _slut_ or _worthless piece of shit_.  
Perhaps he was able to play an instrument?

He heard him get out of the water and his naked feet on the tiles. He walked back into the room all naked. Actually, he more swayed back and his eyes were very smallish. John at once moved up to him and took his arm. He felt him tense.

“Hush. You look weak. Let me help you. I am a doctor.” Sherlock went still and let him be manhandled. John sighed but only inside. This would take time. He probably had been mistreated and hurt.

“Sit down.” He carefully moved him over to the bed and made him sit. He took his pulse and it was slow and weak.

“OK, go to bed now and sleep. If you need anything, if you are in pain or whatever, please ring that bell over there.” He pointed over to a bell attached to a string. Sherlock nodded. John pointed at the blanket and Sherlock moved beneath it. John had to pull it up for him because he didn’t do it himself.

“Would you like the night-light?” Sherlock instantly nodded. He had spent too many hours and days locked away in the dark, being tied up and hurting. He was grateful for the night-light and it showed; he almost cried.

“Jesus, what must have been done to him…” John thought. Then he left the room and closed the door. Sherlock noticed very well that he didn’t lock it and he started to cry for real now. There were tissues on the nightstand and Sherlock blew his nose. He drank some more water because there was a bottle of water and a glass. He thought he must be in slave-wonderland. He carefully rolled on his side and pulled the duvet up to his chin. He closed his eyes and fell asleep at once.

***

John decided to have another drink and fetch his mobile. He didn’t bother to ring for a servant. He picked up his phone and saw a text from Greg. He pushed his finger down and when it didn't work, he swore. He wiped over the display and hated the new mobiles with touch-screens and such. Then he read it.

_“And?”  
GL_

John could almost see the smirk. He typed his reply.

_“Nothing. He is exhausted. I fed him and tugged him in. Tell you more tomorrow.”  
Dr J_

_“You are too good a man, John.”  
GL_

John sighed.

_“I am a bloody doctor.”  
Dr J_

_“Call me!”  
GL_

_“Will do!”  
Dr J_

John had to smile. He liked Greg; he was his best friend. But he needed a companion. He couldn’t be alone anymore. Greg had talked him into buying a slave for exactly that purpose. John had never owned a slave before he had come home. Back in Kandahar, several officers had their slaves with them.

After John had been sent home invalided, he had been given a slave-nurse for the first months to take care of him. He hadn’t liked her at all and was happy when her contract was over. After her, he hadn’t tried again and then found he was the heir of all this. He made sure there were only servants on the premises. He had taken all the slaves; he had been given with him and placed them into the huts on the property. They worked the land and took care of stuff. They had a good life with him and loved him. And then Greg had done this to him. He had spent a huge amount of money for that beautiful man upstairs and he had no idea why. He had no intentions to shag him. He had felt something though when their eyes met back at the auction.  
He also was curious. Sherlock hadn’t looked like a born slave. Perhaps he would talk to him later about what made him a slave. Also, John would ensure that he would live a quiet life in here by his side. He wouldn’t be beaten or hurt in any way. John pitied himself, but he was in desperate need of a companion, perhaps even more. He was a lonely man.  
John even was a bit excited and hoped he would be doing just fine.  
He walked back into his bedroom and stopped by his door. He quietly opened it and peeked inside. The man was sprawled all over the bed and the duvet had been kicked halfway off. John was able to see one long leg and his arse, his very plush and muscled arse. John swallowed and quickly closed the door.  
Back in his bed his hand reached down for his cock and touched it. While doing so, he closed his eyes.

“I am so not gay …” He muttered the words while getting off.


	3. Some Talking

Sherlock slept all through the night without a single nightmare. He woke the next morning when the sun shone into his room. He needed a moment to remember everything and then quickly sat up in his bed. His bed? He looked around and wondered what he should do. He decided to wait for someone to come and get him just to be on the safe side.  
He used the loo and showered. He found a dressing-gown and donned it. Then he just looked out of the window. This was luxury. He knew of no slave having access to a room like this with even windows or clothes. He was grateful to have been bought by that short man. He had been nice to him and Sherlock wanted to do his best to repay him. He would spend the rest of his being with this man.  
It knocked and Sherlock turned around. The door was opened and John entered the room. He carried a faded pair of jeans and a tee. At once Sherlock knelt down and lowered his head.  
John quickly moved up to him and placed his palm on his shoulder. Sherlock tensed.

“Don’t. Stand and have breakfast with me.” Sherlock stood and John’s hand fell off. He dressed into the provided clothes and found them clean and comfy. They smelled nice.

“He looks a bit sad and worried.” Sherlock thought and followed him back into the dining-room where breakfast was placed on the table. John took some things on a plate and sat down. Sherlock didn’t dare and helplessly looked at him.

“Take what you want and sit with me.” Sherlock slowly took a plate and his hands were shaking. He chose some scrambled eggs and toast and a tomato. Then he sat down. John poured coffee and Sherlock licked his lips. The smell was divine. John shoved milk and sugar over and smiled while doing so. Sherlock yet wasn’t able to smile but he took milk and two sugars.  
John watched him eat and drink his coffee and finally asked him a question.

“Are you able to speak again?” Sherlock looked up and cleared his throat.

“I think so, Sir.” It was still a bit rough but OK. John liked the sound.

“Does your throat hurt?” Sherlock shook his head.

“No, Sir.” John nodded and cleared his throat, too.

“Well, I have no information about you at all. They wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me. Will you?”

“I am your property. Ask any question you want.” Now John tensed but decided to ignore the wording.

“Well, first of all, I’d like to know your name.” Expectantly he looked at him. Sherlock just looked back. It took him a while until he was able to reply. He had been informed rather early that he was no one and therefore wouldn’t need a name anymore; except for the special terms of endearment for sex-slaves.

“It’s Sherlock. My name was Sherlock.” John looked at him.

“Your name is Sherlock. I’d also like to know about your profession or special skills.” Sherlock placed his cup back and sat up straight. He looked on the table when he started to talk.

“I was at university, Sir. I studied languages, biology, chemistry, a bit of everything, when I … When I became a slave, Sir.”

“Interesting.” John thought. Out loud he said something else.

“Do you play an instrument?”

“I used to play the violin, Sir.” John became increasingly interested in him and relaxed.

“What about horses? Are you able to ride?”

“Yes, Sir.” John nodded.

“Very well, Sherlock. Please listen to me now.” Sherlock nodded still with his eyes cast down.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Please look at me?” John once used his knuckles on the table making Sherlock look up.

“He said _please_ …” A small smile tugged up his lips. John saw it very well.

“I have no intention to hurt or violate you. I mainly need company. You seem to be the perfect companion. Promise me to be honest, to tell me what you need or if you hurt. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“My name is John.”

“Yes, Sir John.” John openly smiled now and Sherlock was surprised how it changed the man.

“Just John.”

“Yes, John.” Sherlock kept looking at him.

“Permission to speak, John?” John just nodded.

“I am grateful for every single minute I have spent with you so far. They are worth more than anything I ever had since having become a slave. Thank you.” John could feel that Sherlock was serious about it.

“We are at home here and I can do what I want. Sometimes though we need to go into London meaning you have to act like a slave. Can you do that?”

“I am a slave.” It hit John but he was right, of course, and he nodded.

“Yes, you are. But you also know what I mean. I won’t make you wear a collar or lead you along on a leash if not necessary. There will be some inspections though to see how you are treated. I am sure you are well aware of that.”

“No, I am not. No one ever checked on me. No one was ever interested in me. I have been trained and forced into submission. I know nothing else.”

“But you aren’t a born slave, are you?” Sherlock bit his lips.

“I am not allowed to talk about it. I can’t … I have already said too much. Please, don’t make me. Please? Just please?” He looked desperate now and John calmed him down.

“It’s OK. Whenever you are ready, you will tell me.” John stood and held out his hand. Sherlock took it still being a bit shy with him.

“I think you are in need of some sun and fresh air. I saw you standing by the window. I will show you the garden, the orchard, and the stables. Come on.” He pulled him along and only realised outside that he still was barefoot.

“Oh, my tailor will only arrive this afternoon. Is it …?” Sherlock buried his feet into the sand.

“It’s perfectly fine. It makes me feel alive.” John smiled and they walked through the garden. Sherlock sucked everything up like a dry sponge. But when he finally saw a wooden bench, he stopped.

“Can we please sit down for a bit?” He asked and looked a bit exhausted.

“Sure thing. I could need a rest with my leg, too.” They sat down and looked into the sun.

“Can I do anything to make you feel better?” John looked at him.

“No, you can’t. I was shot in Afghanistan and sent home invalided. There is nothing you could do.”

“Perhaps a massage could help? I mean just now you haven’t even used a cane.” John just looked at him.

“You are quite right. I forgot it in the manor. I didn’t even limp.” John smiled.

“Perhaps it’s solely psychosomatic?” John sighed.

“Perhaps it is. I don’t know.” They sat in the sun for long minutes and then continued to walk until they reached the stables. John showed him the horses and Sherlock was in awe.

“They are well taken care of.” He said but thought something else.

“Much better than I was.” He looked at John.

“May I go closer and touch them?” John just had to smile. Animals always were the solution.

“Sure, just go but be careful with Tristan over there. He is special.” Sherlock looked at the pointed-out horse. It was huge and black and already stomped on the ground.

“Is he yours?” John shook his head.

“No, he came with the estate. I inherited all this. He is taken care of but no one dares to ride him. We just let him outside, so he can run around as he likes.” John shrugged.

“May I try something?” John seriously looked at him.

“Just be careful.” Slowly Sherlock approached and the horse tensed and snorted. He reached out for it and used his lowest voice.

“Hey, beautiful. How are you today?” Tristan looked at him and seemed to listen to his words. Now Sherlock held up an apple, he had found in a box. Tristan gently took it from his palm.

“May I touch you?” Sherlock moved his hands over his body and stroked over his head. Tristan nudged him and Sherlock smiled being all lost in thoughts. John kept watching him and saw how he relaxed with the horse. This seemed to be good for him.  
Now Sherlock looked over his shoulder.

“May I try and ride him?” John shrugged.

“If you think you can do it? The ones who tried have been thrown off and had to go to hospital.” Sherlock took the horse out of the box and only hooked a leash to the harness. He jumped up and John quickly got a horse.

John was excited. Together they left the stable and Sherlock waited for John to lead the way. They looked at each other and suddenly John grinned and raced off. Sherlock followed at once and they raced over the lawn.  
They rode for more than two hours and when they returned, John was in pain but he didn’t mind. Sherlock just took the horses, dried, and fed them and then gently took John’s arm.

“Let’s go back. Now it might be your turn to take a hot bath.” Slowly they walked back inside and John did exactly that. Before he disappeared into his rooms, he turned to Sherlock.

“You may roam the place, but don’t go outside on your own. You never know who is around and sees you.”

“I’ll freshen up, too. I’d like to sit in the library though.” John nodded.

“It’s all fine. I’ll join you later.” Sherlock bowed to John.

“Thank you.” He walked back to his room and found new clothes there. He quickly showered and got dressed again. Then he hurried downstairs and into the library. His eyes roamed the place and he finally decided on Shakespeare. He carefully took the book and sat in an armchair in front of the fire. He pulled his legs under and started to read.  
No one disturbed him and he sat there for quite a while until a maid entered the room.

“Dr Watson sends me to fetch you. The tailor has arrived. Please follow me.” Sherlock had dropped the book when he jumped off the chair and was being spoken to. He had paled and was quietly panting. She just looked at him. A small smile was on her lips.

“In here you don’t have to be afraid. We are all the same. Most of Dr Watson’s servants are former slaves. Don’t worry because there is no reason. Just act _slavy_ now because of the tailor.”

“Thank you, really.” He followed her into a salon where John already waited with a tailor. His eyes were cast down when he approached John and knelt by his side. John placed his hand on his head.

“So, this is him. I need an assortment of clothes for him. Evening suits, gala suits, riding gear and comfy stuff. You know, just the same as I have ordered for myself.” The tailor stepped up and around Sherlock.

“Very well, Dr Watson. I will take his measurements now.” He rather roughly pulled him up and made him stand on a pedestal. Sherlock started to sweat remembering the auction. His eyes carefully looked for John and their eyes met over the tailor’s head. John shortly nodded and Sherlock relaxed. John would stay. He wouldn’t leave him alone with the man.

Said man took his measurements and touched him more than once not very appropriate. Sherlock wondered why John didn’t interfere, but perhaps this was some sort of test. Sherlock just accepted his fate. But when the tailor was done and looked very pleased, John stepped up.

“I will take 40 % off your invoice because you touched what is mine. Accept it or deal with the consequences. I’ll expect the things here by Monday next week. Good day, Sir.” He didn’t even offer him a handshake.

“Come on, you!” He threw him his clothes and Sherlock quickly dressed. He followed John outside who led him back into the library. The fire was burning high again and John sat down. Sherlock sat on his heels by his side and for once John didn’t say anything. Instead they just looked at each other.

“You have planned this, haven’t you?” Sherlock asked making John grin.

“Yes, I have. Are you disappointed?” Slowly Sherlock shook his head.

“No, I was a bit scared though. I am still very easy to confuse.” John leant forward and once ruffled his hair.

“I am sorry. I’ll make it better.” But Sherlock shook his head.

“That’s not possible.” It took John a moment to understand what Sherlock meant.

“Oh, dear …” John looked stunned and his fingers were still into Sherlock’s hair. Sherlock’s eyes were moist and his lips pressed together. And suddenly he just lowered his head and cried on John’s lap.


	4. Inspection

Several months passed by and still, John hadn’t touched Sherlock. They lived together like flatmates and Greg who often visited mocked John about it. Sherlock always retreated when Greg was around. He only politely greeted him and then disappeared into the stables. He wouldn't even join them for dinner and John let him.

Sherlock took care of Tristan and rode him as much as possible. He had read a lot and improved his studies. He also had started to compose again and played the violin John had bought for him.

One day he stood on a ladder and changed a bulb in the hall when John called him into the salon. Sherlock hopped down and hurried to meet him. But when he looked at John, he stopped dead in his tracks. He looked angry. Slowly he approached.

“What happened?” Furiously John looked up waving a letter in front of Sherlock.

“Here! Read this! Bloody bureaucracy!” Sherlock took the letter and started to read. He swallowed and paled while doing so and when he was done, he looked scared.

“What will happen now?” He quietly asked.

“We have to play along. I have to act like the arse I am supposed to be and you have to act like the slave you were. And don’t correct me now!” John lifted his finger when Sherlock had wanted to speak.

“I think I am going to be sick …” John muttered and sat down. Sherlock poured him a drink and knelt in front of him.

“You can do it. I have to do it. I can act, it’s no problem. I know what to do. I was trained very thorough.” John sighed and looked at him.

“What do we need to do? The inspection will take place in a few days already.”

“You have to provide a collar. I will wear it.” Sherlock shrugged.

“They will want you to perform.”

“I know what to do.”

“What if they want to talk to my servants?” But Sherlock shook his head.

“As far as I know they are not allowed to. The rules are strict. I will perform splendidly and they will leave again.” Now he placed his palms on John’s thighs and rubbed over the fabric of his jeans. John became hard and he blushed. He cleared his throat.

“I will ask Greg if he could join me. Us.” Sherlock nodded.

“That’s perfect. He could stay in my room and no one will ever know it’s mine.”

“But where will you be?” John looked a bit shocked.

“I could be tied to your bedposts? Or hooked to a ring in the basement? Or in the stable with Tristan?” John rubbed over his face.

“I know I have never touched you. But I need to touch you now. May I hug you, please?” Sherlock just spread his arms and John pulled him up and on his lap. He was strong and he placed the lanky Sherlock on his thighs holding him tight.

Sherlock had longed for this for a long time. He liked John a lot and he was deprived of touches. He knew that John was attracted to him, too. Now he just enjoyed sitting here and leant against his warm and compact body.

“This is weird. I am so sorry, Sherlock.” John tried to shove him off but Sherlock clung to his body.

“No, don’t. Please?” Sherlock spoke against his neck and he felt the grip tightening. Sherlock sighed and relaxed. After a few minutes, he felt John’s erection pressing against his thigh.

“It’s not an abuse if I consent.” He whispered into John’s ear and felt him flinch. Suddenly his face was palmed and moved back. John looked into his eyes. They were close. And then John kissed him on the lips. Sherlock closed his eyes and opened up at once. John groaned and made him spread his legs. Then he stood and threw him back on the armchair. He climbed on top of Sherlock and caged him in by his muscular thighs.

Sherlock looked up and panted. By now he was hard, too. John continued to kiss him and he knew what he was doing.

Sherlock had tried the sex-thing in university but it never felt good. Then he had been trained a sex-slave and was made to orgasm both men and woman. He was also taught how to orgasm and show his masters how happy he was. He could hold back for a long time because often a slave was punished when coming before his master or at all.

This was the first kiss which made him enjoy. John was both tender and strong and Sherlock felt his spine tingling. Soon he was breathless and moaned into John’s mouth.

After a few minutes of intensive kissing and groping both men were leaking into their pants. John seriously looked at him.

“Do you consent?” Sherlock smiled out of hooded eyes. His pupils were blown wide.

“Yes, I do.” John stood and took his hand pulling him up. John smiled happily and it warmed Sherlock’s heart. They hurried upstairs and into John’s bedroom. Sherlock wanted to get rid of his clothes but John stopped him.

“No, let me, please.” He slowly undressed him and then just caressed his slender body. Sherlock was speechless.

“You are so damn beautiful …” John worshipped his body and Sherlock was close to tears. He slicked his cock with spit and pre-cum and Sherlock lifted up his long legs. John looked a bit worried.

“I have never done this. You have to tell me if it is right or if I am hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.” John tried to get his thick cock into him but Sherlock stopped him.

“No, please open me up at first. Use your fingers and widen my hole.” Of course, Sherlock had been taken without preparations many times but if he could prevent that, he would always do so. And he knew John would listen to him. He really didn't want to hurt him.

John stuck his finger into his mouth and rubbed over his hole. Sherlock was relaxed because he wanted it and even if he hadn’t been fucked for months now, he was easy to breach. John soon used three fingers and fucked him until Sherlock panted.

“It’s fine. Do it.” He looked up at him and John lined up again. Now he was able to push inside. Sherlock held on to him tightly and moved with him. It hurt for the first few seconds but then Sherlock adjusted his position and John’s prick rubbed over his prostate.

“God, yes!” He shouted and his grip tightened even more. John looked surprised and kept doing what he was doing.

“You are so tight. God, are you sure I am doing this right? It feels amazing, I had no idea.” John rotated his hips making Sherlock wail beneath him.

“You are perfect …” Sherlock moaned and moved his hands over John’s body. John lowered his head and kissed him again where he could.

“Could you please touch my nipples?” Sherlock dared to ask and John just did it. He used his fingers to pull and twist them. Sherlock arched up and clenched. John liked that he could do this to him, make him enjoy this.

“Tell me what else you like and I’ll do it!” John looked into his eyes and saw his dilated pupils.

“Pinch my nipples, slap me, pull my hair.” Sherlock panted. John raised his brow. He really wasn’t violent but this somehow turned him on. So, he did what Sherlock wanted and soon found he liked this a bit too much.

“Please, John! God, please!” Suddenly Sherlock started to beg and John stilled holding him down.

“Please what? Hm?” He smiled and kissed him.

“Please, let me come!” Instead, John took his cock by the base and stopped him. Sherlock’s head moved over the pillow. John sped up and fucked him really quickly. The bed cracked and shook. Only when he was ready, he let go of Sherlock. He pinched his nipples making Sherlock yell. Both men came together and their cum was everywhere.

***

Sherlock blacked out for a few seconds but when he opened his eyes again, he stared directly into John’s bright blue ones. He was kissed again and John just kept looking at him.

“Are you doing fine, John?” Sherlock carefully asked making John laugh quietly.

“Am I doing fine? Jesus! I have never felt so good in my life!” Sherlock smiled. John sat up against the headrest and Sherlock followed. John offered water and they drank. Then Sherlock sensed something.

“You want to ask something. Just do it.” John blushed a bit and licked his lips. Sherlock found it adorable.

“What I did to you, what you wanted, I mean. I liked it, too.” Sherlock grinned.

“That was rather obvious. And it wasn’t what you wanted to say.” John shook his head.

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” He sighed.

“I don’t know how to ask this because of your past. I am afraid you could not like me anymore.” Sherlock seriously looked at John.

“That’s stupid. You have been so good to me since you brought me here to live with you. Whatever you want, I’ll do it for you. And I am doing it because I trust you with my life.” John just nodded and blushed again.

“Well, I’ll ask right away then. I would like to experiment in bed and I need to rely on your training to do so. I am very inexperienced with everything not being vanilla but I would like to know more. You need to show me stuff!” John became excited now and it showed. Sherlock shrugged.

“I would lie if I said that the whole slave-sex training had sucked. Some of it made me come more than once and I loved it. Some of it was just horrible. I know you have seen the fading bruises and marks on my body after you laid your eyes on me.” John nodded.

“Oh yes, I did. And it’s not my intention to beat you up.”

“Some of the things I like might lead to bruises and it will be just fine. You are a strong man and if you hold me down there will be bruises.”

“Tell me what you like right now, Sherlock.” John’s voice got all husky and his prick was moving up again.

“There was one guy who trained me. When he fucked me doggy-style it was perfect. He also tied me up rather tight and it was great, too. He also suspended me from the ceiling and turned me when being blindfolded. He even only tickled me being all tied up. He never really hurt me. So, if you like to try some bondage, I am up to it.”

“You are talking about being tied to my bed both gagged and blindfolded?” John swallowed and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, exactly. The slave-shop provides everything you need. I can show you online but you have to order it yourself. Naturally.” Sherlock shrugged.

“Naturally.” John nodded.

“OK. It sounds damn exciting and we will do it. But now we need to talk about what to do during the inspection.”

“Have they ever come over to see you?” John slowly nodded.

“Yes, they noticed when I changed something around here. I set slaves free and normal workers just stayed when their contract ended. They were suspicious because I didn’t keep my nurse-slave I was given by the military and the reward-slaves after I came home. Back then I just couldn’t deal with that.”

“So, they don’t really check if I am treated correctly. Instead they are checking on you and your behaviour. Am I right?”

“Yes, you are. They don’t give a damn about you. They think me weird and strange.” Sherlock quietly laughed.

“You are anything but. You are the best, John!” And Sherlock kissed him. John was taken by surprise but let him. And he enjoyed it.

***

John got a collar for Sherlock and Sherlock knew how to make it look old and worn. The day the inspection was due it was placed around Sherlock’s neck and he got naked. John cuffed his wrists on his lower back and made him kneel in his bedroom. He also was muted by a muzzle.

John stayed by his side sitting on his heels until the door-bell rang and the maid opened it. He once ruffled through Sherlock’s hair and he just blinked once. John walked downstairs and greeted the official who had come alone. He wore a cheap suit and a brief-case and looked at John.

“Dr Watson, good day. My name is Anthony Warden. I am here to take a look at your slave.”

“Which one? I have many on the premises. I thought you might want to see the one I have bought on that auction for many, many pounds?” The man swallowed.

“Exactly that one. How is he doing?”

“Very well trained and worth every penny. I had to feed him up though because he was rather malnourished.” Anthony Warden scribbled something into a notebook.

“Would you like a coffee, Mr Warden?” He looked surprised when being offered something but suddenly smiled a bit shy.

“That would be very nice. Thank you, Dr Watson.” John led him into the salon and had coffee and pastry brought in. Mr Warden happily drank the coffee and politely took only one cookie.

“What exactly do you wish to inspect, Mr Warden?” John suddenly asked.

“It’s just routine, Dr Watson. The slave you have bought at the auction had a tracking marker in his file. Someone paid a special fee to always know about his whereabouts.” John looked surprised.

“You mean the one who sold him into slavery wants to keep an eye on him?” Mr Warden nodded.

“Yes.”

“Is that routine, too?” Mr Warden restlessly moved on the armchair.

“Not really, no. I am sorry, Dr Watson, actually I am not supposed to talk to you about it.” He looked a bit scared.

“You mean, you are not allowed to do.” John stared him down and made him sweat.

“Would you just let me have a look, please? I’ll be gone in a second.” John stood.

“Follow me. He is upstairs.” Mr Warden followed John into his bedroom. John opened the door and they entered the room. Sherlock knelt straight up on the hardwood and his eyes were cast down. They approached him and Mr Warden once moved around him. He scribbled something into his notebook.

“So, what do you think, Mr Warden?” John asked.

“He looks well.” John shrugged.

“I am not mistreating my investment. I paid a lot for him, fed him up and had him healed. He is worth the effort most of the time. And if he misbehaves, he will get punished.” Mr Warden wrote it down.

“Does he need to be punished a lot?” John shook his head.

“No, not really. After I have bought him, he was a bit bratty but that’s over now, isn’t it, pet?” John ruffled Sherlock’s hair.

“I see he is gagged. You don’t use the drug to mute him?” John shook his head.

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not? It’s very efficient.” John sighed.

“Firstly, I love his voice. I often make him read to me or even sing. Secondly, a gag turns me on.” Mr Warden blushed.

“I see.” He wrote it down, too.

“Would you rather like a demonstration of his special skills?” John fisted into his hair and forced his head up. Mr Warden looked at Sherlock and then at John.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” John politely smiled rubbing over his groin. He was taking a rather great risk offering Sherlock to the inspector. But somehow, he believed that Mr Warden wouldn't accept the offering.  
Sherlock groaned loudly behind the muzzle.

“I heard it was a common thing during most inspections?” Mr Warden cleared his throat.

“Not during my inspections, it is. I am done here.” He made a step back and John let go of Sherlock. He showed Mr Warden out and was told he would have to sign some papers arriving by mail during the next days.

John’s eyes followed the car until it had disappeared. He really wondered about that guy. He seemed to be nice and John hadn’t expected it. He sighed and closed the door. Then he hurried upstairs to get Sherlock.  
When he entered his bedroom, Sherlock was still kneeling on the hardwood. Only now he was spotting a raging hard-on. He looked at John who became hard, too.

“God, you look ravishing!” Sherlock smiled behind the gag and looked at John. Gently he took the muzzle off and just dropped it. Sherlock’s jaw cracked and he shuffled close pressing his face against John’s groin.  
John groaned and fisted his hair again.

“Let me do this for you, please. I need you now.” John carded through his hair.

“Go ahead.” John held on to his hair and Sherlock carefully opened his trousers with his teeth. They had never done it this way and John was bloody impressed. Sherlock skilfully got his cock out and started to suck and lick. He forced himself down on John’s prick and swallowed around the head.

John pulled his hair and groaned. He also started to fuck Sherlock’s face who took it all. When Sherlock felt John being very close, he pressed his face against him with his cock still stuck a bit down his throat. John felt him swallow, yelled and came down Sherlock’s throat. He pulled out and saliva and cum were spilt over Sherlock’s face. But he didn’t cough or gag once.

John stared at him and Sherlock licked over his lips.

“This was amazing …” They looked at each other.

“Thank you, I think?” John smiled and took off his cuffs, too.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. You look very much debauched.” Sherlock stood and only now John saw he was still hard.

“Stay like this.” Sherlock stilled and looked confused. He totally tensed when John went down on his knees and held his cock. He twitched and didn’t know what to do. He tried to pull away but John held on.

“No, stay where you are. I want to do this.” John started to lick and suck and started only with the head. Sherlock stood as if nailed to the ground. His hands were into fists and he stared down on John’s blond hair.

John had never done this. Not to Sherlock and not to anyone. But he knew what he liked, so he tried to do it now. Soon he was able to hear Sherlock’s moans and found it was good. He tried to force himself down and choked only a little. Spit and pre-cum were all over his lips and chin but he kept going. His hands were flat on Sherlock’s thighs at first but soon he dared and touched his testicles.

And only now Sherlock started to move his hips and his cock reached John’s throat. John hummed and Sherlock felt it. His mouth stood open.

“John, I am close. I can’t stop it.” John looked up out of hooded eyes and pressed his lips around his prick. Sherlock twitched and shouted and came. John hadn’t been trained and also had never done this. He wasn’t able to manage the load coming out of Sherlock. He choked and coughed and spilt everything. Sherlock patted his back until he had calmed down again.

“God, I am sorry. I feel horrible. This is embarrassing.” Sherlock knelt by his side and held him carding through his hair.

“No, it’s not. It was the most beautiful thing you could ever have done to me. Thank you. I mean it, thank you.” John looked up and into his eyes and saw the emotions in them. He wiped over his mouth and tilted his head to kiss him. They kept kissing for a long time and only then John moved them under the shower.

***

During dinner, Sherlock asked about Mr Warden.

“What did he tell you? I mean why would he want to inspect you? Did he say?” John looked up.

“Actually, he admitted that he was here to see you. The one who sold you had paid a fee to always know about you.” Sherlock obviously paled and concentrated on his food. John kept looking at him.

“Sherlock, what is it?” Sherlock’s hands trembled.

“Nothing.” John placed his fork and knife on the plate and his palm on Sherlock’s hand.

“Don’t. I can see you are scared. Why are you scared?” Sherlock still didn’t look up. He was pale as death and tense.

“I am not allowed to tell you. There was a reason I was muted for so long. They knew if I talked about it.” His voice was shaking.

“I know this may sound rude. But I have bought you for an abnormally high price and I just need to know. You never talked to me about your life. I know you aren’t a born slave. I also know you aren’t a contract-slave. So, what are you?” Sherlock pulled his hand out from under John’s and kept shaking his head.

“I am sorry if I am disappointing you but I just can’t. You could punish me, hurt me or whatever but I just can’t. Please, don’t make me …” His shoulders shook and he started to cry. He covered his face and sobbed.

John was shell-shocked and had no idea what to do. He very much wanted to comfort him but also didn’t want to touch him right now. So, he poured a drink and placed it by his side.

“Drink this.” Sherlock took the glass and downed the whiskey. He sadly smiled.

“Thank you.”

“It’s all fine. I won’t insist because I can see it causes you pain. I don’t want that.”

“May I leave the table?” Sherlock suddenly asked. John was hurt a bit but at once agreed.

“Of course. You very well know you don’t even have to ask. Do what helps you right now. If you need me, you know where to find me.” Sherlock sadly smiled and just for a second placed his palm on John’s shoulder.

John’s eyes followed him when he left the room. Only then he stood and poured another drink. He sat by the fire and wondered what had just happened. Finally, he decided to talk to Gregory. Perhaps he was able to help. He sent a text and they arranged to meet tomorrow. It was the weekend and Greg didn’t have to work.

Work had been the reason why Greg hadn't been able to be present during the inspection. John would now drive into the city and they would meet at Greg’s place. John wanted to talk about stuff which wasn’t smart to talk about in public or on the phone.

***

Somehow Sherlock managed to get upstairs into his room. He closed the door behind him and leant against the wall. Slowly he glided down until he sat on the hardwood. He buried his head between his legs and started to cry again.

He knew very well who paid the fee to get information now and then. Sherrinford can’t ever know that he was living here rather safe and comfortable. Sherlock had tried his best to supplant his memories of his abduction and the following abuse.  
Now everything had crushed over him after John had told him.

Of course, John couldn’t ever know about his past. If he tried to help him, he would be killed by Sherrinford’s minions.

Sherlock was happy now living and being with John. He loved John and sometimes he thought that maybe John loved him back.

If Sherrinford would ever find out … Sherlock shuddered. He felt cold and shivered. He wasn’t able to stand and move into bed. And he started to cry repeatedly. He bit into his hand to mute himself because he didn’t want John to find him like this.

After he had managed the crying fits, he also managed to get up and climb into his bed and under the blanket. He rolled on his side and moved close to the wall. He hugged the pillow and was exhausted enough to fall asleep.

***

John sat in front of the fire and sipped his drinks. He wasn’t tired at all. He was worried about Sherlock. When he finally felt tired enough, he went upstairs, too. He stopped in front of his door and listened. He could hear him cry. He knocked but there was no reply. He quietly opened the door and had a look. He saw that he was sleeping restlessly. He already had kicked off the blanket. His sweaty hair clung to his head and his face was blotchy and wet.

It hurt John’s heart to see him like this. He obviously had a nightmare because his head flew over the pillow and he moved his lips.

“Please, don’t hurt me. Sherrinford, don’t. I am not interested in the family business. Let me go. Please don’t do this to me. Please …” He cried some more and carefully John sat on the bed and took his pulse. It was racing.  
And who the fuck was Sherrinford?

He looked into Sherlock's face when he started to talk again.

“Myc, where are you? Help me, please! I miss you so much …” More tears spilt but he still didn’t wake.

Now who was Mike? He really was worried now and he very much wanted to help. Right now, he could only sit here and soothe him. He kept holding his hand and moved his hair off his face.

After a few minutes, Sherlock had calmed down and slept rather peacefully. John covered him with the duvet and stood. At least, he had a second name now and perhaps Greg could help him find some information. He went into his rooms and got the legal papers of his purchase. He quickly read them over but found no last name. He didn’t even find a first name and he had to trust him that Sherlock was his real name. In fact, there even wasn't the name of the person who had sold Sherlock. On his contract there only was a number. John gnawed on his bottom lip and thoughtfully sucked it between his teeth. Perhaps Greg would be able to find something. He was working for Scotland Yard and had access to several databases all over the Commonwealth.  
He collected the papers he needed when he would go and see Greg tomorrow.

He was tired by now and it was late at night. He could sleep for a few more hours. Tomorrow he would tell Sherlock he would need to go to the city and see a lawyer because of this estate. Sherlock never questioned his doing and he was perfectly capable of staying alone in here. He would probably spend the day in the stables or in the library.

John fell asleep all worried about Sherlock’s behaviour and he had nightmares. The next morning, he looked hellish and took a long and cold shower which made it a bit better. He checked into Sherlock’s room but found it empty. He was already downstairs and sipped a coffee. He stood when John entered the room. And he looked hellish, too. He had smallish and red-rimmed eyes, his hair was a mess and he looked stricken, sad, and worried.  
John hurried up to him and just pulled him into his arms. He hugged him and held him for a bit.

“I really would like you to rest today. Normally, I would have taken you with me into the city. I would have liked you to see something else but not like this. But I just have to go and you should stay here and enjoy some rest and quiet.” Sherlock sadly smiled.

“I will miss you though. When will you be back?”

“I hope for tonight but I am not sure. If I won’t be back tonight, I will call, OK?” Sherlock nodded.

“May I ride Tristan?” John just nodded. He knew he would sleep inside the stables during the day. He had done it before and John had been looking for him for hours until he had checked in there. Finally, he had found him in an empty box quietly snoring on the hay. John had taken a picture with his mobile and very often looked at it.

“Of course. And if something bothers you or whatever reason there is, you can call me. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” Sherlock smiled a little and it warmed John’s heart. He stood and looked at him.

“I’ll get ready now and see you in a few.” Sherlock looked at him.

“OK, I’ll be right here.” John walked back upstairs to get his bag and collect the documents. Sherlock sat at the table and had another coffee. He thought about John leaving.

“He never left me alone in here. But he also never left for places. This is the first time and right after the inspection. He is worried about me, curious about me. Hopefully he finds nothing or will do something stupid.” Sherlock sighed.  
John returned and they walked to the door together. They kissed and hugged.

“OK, see you soon, Sherlock. Enjoy yourself!” John laughed a little and entered his car. Then he left and Sherlock’s eyes followed him until he wasn’t able to see him anymore. He walked back inside and closed the door. He settled in the library and read. He fell asleep again.


	5. Mycroft

John met Gregory at Scotland Yard to pick him up. Greg for once was able to leave early. They rode to Greg’s place because John always stayed with him and never in a hotel.

“Would you like take-away or do you want to go out?” Greg asked.

“Let’s stay at home, please. I am really too exhausted.” John replied.

“Yes, you look like it. I will order Chinese and you will talk to me. Here, have a beer already.” He opened a bottle and placed it on the coffee table in front of John.

“Thanks, mate.” John listened to Greg order and he leant back into the sofa and relaxed. Here was home, too. They were best buddies for ages and he would be thankful to Greg for the rest of his life because he had made him buy Sherlock.  
While they waited Greg joined John on the sofa.

“So?” He expectantly asked raising a brow. And John told him everything. He ended with a plea.

“That’s why I am asking you to look into his past. I need to find out about what happened to him. You see, he is no born slave. He is no contract-slave. He has been sold by someone into slavery. He was medically muted, tortured, and it was beaten into him to never talk about his past, to never tell anybody what had happened to him. But I need to know because I love him. I do believe I have actually bought a free man.” The door-bell rang and the food was delivered. Greg hurried to get the boxes and they ate directly out of them. John didn’t mind and it was so very comfy.

“I can go through all the databases for you.” Greg offered.

“Sherlock is very scared. He didn’t want to talk about his past. I firmly believe his family sold him because of some business and the family money. I listened to what he said while having a nightmare.” He told Greg about it and he slowly nodded.

“We have three names we can work with. I will be very careful. I have some contact with MI5 and will ask them.”

“Thanks, Greg.” Greg waved the chopsticks around.

“Don’t mention it. But don’t expect it to happen by tomorrow. It will need time. Time and money, probably.” John just reached into his bag and handed over several bundles of cash. Greg swallowed.

“You really are damn serious, aren’t you?” John just nodded.

“Absolutely. I need to know. I have to help him.” They looked at each other.

“I will have to be more than careful. This might be dangerous. You should go home first thing tomorrow morning to keep an eye on him. I will contact you as soon as I know something. Or even better, I will come and see you in person. If there is someone who sold him and erased his life, they might be able to trace phone calls or hack into computers.” John swallowed. He hadn't thought that far but of course Greg was right.

“I promised to text him if I stayed overnight. Perhaps I should drive home to avoid contacting him?” John wondered but Greg shook his head.

“No, it's late and you have been drinking. Use my mobile. It's secure.” He handed it over and watched John type a message for Sherlock.

“You haven't told me everything yet, John.” Greg said looking at him.

“You could always read me like an open book, Greg. You tell me.” He smiled a bit lopsided.

“You have fallen in love with him, haven't you?” Greg asked leaning forward.

“And what if?” John said defensively.

“Nothing, John! I am happy for you! You deserve it. Bloody hell, he deserves it. I always wanted you to be happy. This bloody auction was trial and error. I never thought you would go for it. But you did.” He placed his palm on John's shoulder and pressed. John smiled.

“I was shocked myself. I looked into his eyes for only a second but it was enough. I never could have allowed him being bought by that fat, sweaty brute in front of me. He would have died. And even if we never have had the sex, I would still have given him a home, a safe place to spend his life.” John smiled even more.

“You are too good a man, John.” Greg smiled, too.

“You have seen him on that pedestal. You have seen how thin he was. He was malnourished. He was bruised and hurt. And he was drugged. They gave him a drug to mute him. It took him days until he dared to speak to me more than a few words. It was horrible.” John emptied his beer. Greg got him another one and also a decent sized whiskey.

They talked for another hour until both men were tired enough. Greg had his guest-room ready and provided water for John. The next day was a Sunday and they would have a late breakfast until John would return to the countryside and Sherlock.

***

Sherlock spent a few hours with Tristan. He rode him, brushed him, cleaned his hooves, and fed him. He slept for a few hours in the hay, just as John had predicted. He had asked the maid to make sure he ate. So, when it was long after dinner-time, she went to get him. She gently woke him and he rubbed over his tired eyes. But by now he knew, he was safe here and he smiled.

“Sherlock, please eat a little something. Come into the kitchen and join us, if you like. You don't have to be alone in your room.” He smiled.

“That's very kind of you, but no. I will eat on the terrace.” He walked back with her and right away took his food from the kitchen and carried it outside. He actually enjoyed the quiet for a while because after having been made a slave, he never had been alone.  
He finished his dinner and stayed outside. The maid appeared and brought him some wine. He thanked her. He was actually surprised but also happy. He wouldn't have taken it by himself. He never did even though he knew John didn't mind.

John. He sighed. He missed him. And right when thinking about him, his mobile dinged with a text message alert.

_“I'll stay overnight. Don't worry. I miss you. I love you.”  
John_

Sherlock smiled but noted the message came from an unknown number. Probably his friend's. That's why he decided to not text back. Now he knew at least, that John wouldn't come home. He would spend the first night alone in a long time. He knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep and wondered how he could spend the night.

He wandered through the house. He sat in the library and read. He watched telly. He drank wine. He waited.

At dawn, he sat outside on the terrace and waited for the first noises in the house. The maid found him after she had looked into his room and also into the master bedroom.

“Sherlock, have you been up all night?” She asked looking a bit shocked when he just nodded.

“Dr Watson won't like it. He will worry about you.” She chided him but very gently.

“I know. But I couldn't help it. I was restless.” He helplessly shrugged.

“I'll get you some coffee. I think you don't want to eat?” She asked.

“Just a croissant perhaps? It will appease Dr Watson.” Both of them smiled and she left. Sherlock sighed. He would need to take a very cold shower to stay awake through the day and not fall asleep at John's side.  
She brought him his coffee and actually two chocolate croissants. He raised a brow.

“Cook made them especially for you.” He looked completely surprised and full of wonder. It made her happy. It was nice to see how such little things could make him so happy.  
Sherlock devoured them and decided to look for Tristan before taking a shower. The horse greeted him loudly. He hugged and stroked him and he gently was nudged and slobbered over. A very thorough shower was in order but he liked it. It reminded him of his childhood. There had always been horses.

Lately, he had been a horse. He swallowed when he remembered the pony-play. He had to pull carts dressed up with a harness, clamps with bells and a feather on top of his head. The bit was thick and the blinkers limited his field of vision. The massive plug had hair falling from its handle. His legs stuck in leather boots with horse-shoes underneath. His arms had been tied on his back. The leather harness went all over his body and held two poles left and right. The bit was connected to a head harness from where reins went to the back. The cart's driver used them to show the direction. He also used a wicked whip to force him to run faster and faster.

He panted and buried his face into Tristan's fur. Sometimes these memories just overpowered him and he wasn't able to stop. Now he was sweaty and trembled. He needed several minutes to get a grip on himself and walk back into the house. He walked straight up and into his room. He shed his clothes on the way into the bath and stepped into the shower. There he leant against the tiles and let the cold water run over his body.  
He took his time and dressed in comfy clothes. It always made him feel better. John had bought him trackpants with brands as well as soft t-shirts, warm socks, and sneakers. Sometimes he even wore a hoodie even though it was warm. But he wasn't. Very often he just froze and no fire or heating-system would help.

Now he waited for John to come back home. He stood on the stairs leading into the house and looked for his car driving through the gate. When standing became too uncomfortable he sat on the stairs.  
The maid brought him water and a cookie. He didn't touch it for a while because he hadn't even noticed. But after another two hours, he was thankful even though it was only luke-warm. But he didn't mind and kept waiting.

John only arrived after one o'clock but Sherlock jumped up at once and stared at the car. John saw him and quickly got out of it. Sherlock ran down the stairs and almost fell into John's arms.

“Hey, hey, careful, my lovely.” John held him tight and felt him trembling.

“I missed you...” Sherlock murmured into his neck and pressed against him. John kissed his temple and then held him a bit apart looking him over.

“You look tired and cold, Sherlock. What have you done?” John asked feeling for his pulse.

“I had dinner. I couldn't sleep. I had breakfast. I waited for you.” Sherlock stuttered out the words while touching John.

“But something happened this morning, am I right? You are stressed. You look like you are going to be sick.” Sherlock cast his eyes but didn't let go of John.

“I was in the stables and took care of Tristan. Suddenly I remembered something. It wasn't nice and I got overwhelmed by the memories of it.” His eyes were huge and sad. John was worried.

“I will take care of you. And I missed you, too.” John smiled and gently kissed him. He felt him slowly relax and pulled him inside.

“You need to rest, love.” He told him while going upstairs.

“Please, don't leave me alone...” Sherlock begged once they were in John's bedroom.

“I won't. I can work in here. But I want you to sleep.” He pointed towards the bed.

Sherlock actually needed John to touch him. Not in a sexual way, just his presence. But he had also been trained a perfect slave and that's why he simply behaved without talking back. He climbed into bed and John pulled up the blanket. There were no touches. He just closed his eyes. He listened to John move around and settle at the desk he had in here. He was quietly typing and murmuring. The sounds made Sherlock finally tired and he rolled on his side facing away from John. And he slept. But he dreamed. And it wasn't a good dream. He remembered.

They had collared him with an electric device. He was forced to masturbate until he came. He had to collect his cum. He was given an amount he needed to reach in a certain time. If he wouldn't manage, he would have to drink everything, got punished and would start again the next day. As long as he needed to reach the amount of cum, they wanted him to shoot out. He was given a prostate stimulator and his hands were free.

All the time he was watched and filmed. He also received shocks through the collar that made him topple over and cramp depending on their strength. When he got too loud, they gagged him severely.

The moment he had managed the demanded amount, he was forced to have dry orgasms. It was extremely painful but not as painful as the shocks from the collar.

And since he was a fantastic looking man he soon was made to masturbate in front of others. He wore a shine-through mask while wanking himself but his body was naked and on display. People paid a lot of money and the films sold well, too.

Sherlock groaned and panted. His head lolled over the pillow and he was sweaty again.

John turned his head and stopped what he was doing. He quickly stood and hurried over.

“Sherlock? Wake up!” He gently shook him but to no avail. His lips stood open and he murmured pleas. John shook him a bit stronger. And finally, his eyes shot open but he didn't recognise John.

“No! No, please! I can't anymore! Do not shock me again! No! Please! No!” He whimpered and his face contorted into a mask of pain. John was shocked and then simply slapped him in the face.

“Wake up, Sherlock! Right now!” Sherlock stilled.

“John...?” He still looked terrified and close to panic. John gently palmed his face and held his hand.

“Yes, it's me. You are safe with me. You had a nightmare.” The tension partly left his body when he carefully looked around and realised where he was.  
John saw he was in shock. He felt cold and clammy. This wasn't good.

“Listen, why don't we go into the whirlpool? You will like it and it will help you relax.” Sherlock thought John was the only way he could relax with but didn't say so. Instead, he nodded and sat up.  
John saw that something wasn't right but couldn't put his finger on it. He only knew he had to make him talk.  
He led him into the bathroom and started to fill the large whirlpool. Sherlock just stood by his side and waited. He looked absent.

“Lift your arms, love.” Sherlock lifted his arms and John pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it. Next, he pulled the trackpants down. There was no underwear and John raised a brow. He knelt in front of him and peeled off his socks, too. He made him sit in the water and quickly undressed himself. He sat behind him and switched the jets on. Now he could only hope there weren't any bad memories connected with bathtubs.  
He carefully slung his arms around him. Sherlock very slowly relaxed into his embrace and finally, his head rested on John's shoulder. Around them, the water bubbled. Sherlock's fingers closed around John's arm. John pecked kisses on his skin wherever he could reach. They didn't speak.

When John thought it was enough and when their skin was all wrinkly, he gently pushed Sherlock off.

“Come on, get up and help me out, will you? My damn leg hurts like fuck...” John said and pulled a face. Very quickly Sherlock stood and helped John into a bathrobe. He led him back to bed and placed him there. He knelt by his side and just started to give him a massage. And he was still naked.

John didn't want it but couldn't help it. He was aroused and his cock grew. The bathrobe hadn't been closed and his arousal was obvious. Sherlock didn't acknowledge it but kept working on his leg to make it better. And it worked.  
When he stopped his cock was hovering above his stomach. Sherlock looked at it and simply dove down. His lips closed around it and at once he started to suck. John groaned. This hadn't been his intention but he also didn't want to order him to stop.  
His orgasm hurt.

***

Later when they were dressed again, they sat in the library and had a drink after dinner. Sherlock hadn't spoken a lot since John's arrival and John had no idea what he could do. Should do.  
He knew he had to make him talk. Something like today mustn't happen again. He never should have left him behind. Next time he would ask Greg to come here. Never mind the risk. He decided to speak up.

“Sherlock, I am very sorry you suffered because I left you behind. I had no idea this could happen. Now I need you to speak. Please talk to me. Tell me about your time as a slave. One piece at a time. Please, don't keep it to yourself.” Sherlock sipped his drink and only after a minute he looked at John.

“No, I am sorry. I am sorry I scared you. I am weak. I was triggered in the stables and later on more bubbled up. If you are willing to listen to my horrible stories, I will tell you one at a time.” Then he placed his tumbler on a table and moved on his knees.  
John's eyes widened when he saw him kneel straight up and reaching out for him.

“I am begging you to not leave me behind again. Take me with you. Collar me. Mute me. I will bear anything. Just never leave me again. Please. Please...” A single tear rolled over his cheekbone and John was paralysed. He could not move or speak. And Sherlock stayed on his knees with his arms outstretched. It took John more than a minute to react. Only then he stood and hurried over to Sherlock. He took his hands and made him stand. Sherlock followed the pull. His lips quivered.

“Hush now, my love. I promise. Do you hear me? I promise.” John was dead serious and Sherlock was able to understand that. And finally, finally, he relaxed.

“Thank you...” Sherlock almost breathed out the words. John kissed both his palms and pulled him on his lap when he sat down again. At once he huddled against him. He pressed his nose against his neck. Somehow, he managed to put his long limbs somewhere without looking uncomfortable.

“I know it won't be easy to talk about it. You can do it on your own time and whenever you want. I will always be here and listen to you.” Sherlock slowly nodded. It was enough for now.

***

The next day Sherlock was on John's heels wherever he went. John didn't tell him off because he knew he needed it. It would stop soon and it did after another day. Sherlock behaved normally again.

John got a call from Greg who had news to tell. He invited himself for the weekend and John was excited. He needed to tell Sherlock, so he could prepare for a visit. It actually was important for him, too. Finally, he found him with Tristan. He quietly talked to him and John watched them for a while all smiling. Sherlock brushed the horse with long, wide strokes and Tristan obviously enjoyed it.

“I know you are standing there, John. What would you like to tell me?” He looked over his shoulder and smiled at him.

“I didn't want to give you a fright. And you are looking good taking care of him. No one else can do it, you know?”

“I am almost done. Why don't you stay on that stack of hay and wait for me?” Sherlock said and John did just that. He looked at him while he finished and at last gave an apple to Tristan who ate it happily. Sherlock got slobbered at and nudged and finally turned away. There was hay in his hair and he was smelly and dirty. But he looked all healthy and alive and, most importantly, happy.  
He came up to John who stood.

“You are the most beautiful and wonderful man and I love you very much.” He said and made him blush.

“You didn't come here to tell me that, did you?” Sherlock asked.

“No, I didn't but I should have. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that my best buddy Greg is coming over for the weekend. I will tell you all about him. I don't want you to be scared or worried.”

“I am not. But I am curious. He was your company at the auction, wasn't he? It is also he whom you saw when you left, am I right?” John nodded.

“Yes, I asked him for a favour and I think he did what I asked for.”

“I see. Then you should spend some time with him alone. I know you are at home, so I won't have a reason to panic.”

“But you will attend dinner with us?” John asked.

“If you want me to?” Sherlock asked.

“I don't want you to do anything and you know that, my lovely. I am asking if you would. But if you feel uncomfortable in somebody else's presence, you don't have to. But I am telling you, you do miss something. Greg is a very nice and friendly man. He is my best friend and I know him for many, many years. I would like you to meet him.”

“I am too curious to not do it. Don't worry about me anymore, John. If he is your best friend, he must be a nice person.” Sherlock smiled. The visit promised a change and some excitement perhaps. But nothing bad.

“Very well. I will tell you everything about him tonight during dinner.” John had taken his hands and they were still standing in the stables.

“Why not now? You even came out here to tell me about his visit.” Sherlock looked a bit clueless when John just grinned.

“Not now because now something else in on my mind. If you don't mind?” With a strong pull, Sherlock bumped against him and they fell into the hay. He let out a noise close to a shriek and John laughed starting to touch him.

***

After dinner, Sherlock knew everything there was to know about Gregory Lestrade. He was a bit worried now because he also knew about the favour John had asked for. He knew he had talked in his sleep about someone called Mike. It actually was Myc. And now he owed it to John to explain.  
It was hard to do so. They had beaten it into him to keep the secret and keep his mouth shut. He had been threatened with torture and death if he would tell the truth. He had been drugged and spent many weeks voiceless to understand the concept. And he had understood.  
But now everything had changed. He trusted John to protect him. That's why he finally started to speak. He explained who Myc, Mycroft was the full name, was and what had happened to him. He told him about his family and what had happened when he was of age. What the oldest brother, Sherrinford, had done to him, when Mycroft had been abroad because of his position with the British government.

John was shocked and his hands shook when he poured them drinks. Sherlock had stopped talking when he had reached the moment after having been sold and taken away.

“Here, drink this.” Sherlock took the tumbler and looked up at John.

“You are very pale, John. You aren't going to be sick, are you?” Sherlock sounded worried.

“I am not sure right now.” John replied.

“How could your own brother do something like that?” He sadly shook his head.

“He was afraid I could take over the family business. You see, he only was a half-brother. His mother wasn't Mycroft's and mine. But my father made him the heir of the family empire.”

“But how could he have managed to have you disappear? If you are well-known, someone surely would have missed you?” John asked and only earned a snort.

“No one missed me, John. I was always the _freak_. I never had any friends. I was too smart for my own good.”

“Your brother must be prosecuted. I wish I could kill him myself, pull the trigger.” John was angry and it showed. Somehow it scared Sherlock.

“Please, don't. He is much too powerful to get arrested. He has an army of lawyers who know every trick in the book to break the law legally. I am here with you. I am moderately safe. I am absolutely happy. I have found you. I love you.” Sherlock spoke very quickly looking at John all the time.

“I don't even want to think about what could have happened to you if I hadn't bought you. But the moment I met your eyes I was lost. And I knew.” John smiled.

“I am forever grateful.” They looked at each other and John's heart was close to bursting. He slowly stood and walked over to Sherlock. He reached out and took his hand.

“Let's get to bed. I need to make love to you. Very urgently.” Sherlock blushed but followed the pull at once. Upstairs he quickly undressed him and pushed him on the bed. He jumped right after.

“Do you remember what I said about you teaching me things?” Sherlock sure did but never asked again. He had waited for John to want it.

“Yes, I do.” It was all he said but he smiled. John reached over him and pulled some ropes from the bed's frame.

“You said you liked bondage. I would like to try it. But I need you to tell me how I am supposed to do it.” Sherlock licked his lips when he watched John above him holding the ropes in his hands. All of it looked a bit helpless and it made his spine all tingly. He swallowed.

“One position I did enjoy actually was the following.” Then he explained to John what he wanted him to do. John listened and finally shook out the ropes. He thought about it for another minute and the suspense almost killed Sherlock.  
But in the end Sherlock was kneeling on the bed with his wrists tied to his elbows. Ropes went around his chest above and beneath his nipples and also over his shoulders back to his bound arms. He moaned and shifted.

“Are you really feeling well?” John whispered.

“Just look at me.” Sherlock roughly replied. John saw his erect cock and smiled. And he proceeded.

Sherlock spread his knees and ropes held them apart leading to the frame. His calves were tied to his thighs. At last came the blindfold. There was enough room on the bed for John to be able to move around him. First, he started to lick his nipples. He remembered what Sherlock had told him about the clamps and he was very gently licking and sucking them. He saw him leaking and heard him moan quietly moving his hips as much as he could. John kissed him everywhere until he reached his lips. Their kisses were hot, and wet, and dirty. They panted.

“Please, let me suck you off like this...” Sherlock panted out and the wish made John groan. He stood on the bed and held his cock in front of Sherlock lips who was able to smell him close and moved his head. John's hands were on his head when he put his prick on Sherlock's tongue. At once he got sucked inside and his tongue worked its wonders. John loudly groaned and scratched over his head. Sherlock hummed around his thick cock and John felt the vibrations reach his toes. He shook and the mattress wobbled.

And he actually didn't want to come like this and pulled out. Sherlock's head followed him but wasn't able to follow that far. Even with the blindfold on he looked worried and clueless. John fell back on his knees and leant against him.

“Not like this. I want to be inside you...” He murmured against his white flesh and Sherlock relaxed again. John moved around and knelt behind him. He reached for his cock and gently worked him up.

“John?” He quietly said.

“Hm?” John made a sound but kept stroking him.

“I would like you to gag me with fabric. A scarf. Nothing too harsh. Could you do that, please?” John placed his palms on his nipples and held him tight against his body.

“Why?” He simply asked.

“I can enjoy it because I trust you, John. Please...” John pecked a kiss on his nape and got off the bed. He got a handkerchief and a scarf out of his wardrobe. He stood behind him on the bed and had two fingers around his jaw to make him open his mouth. Sherlock groaned and it sounded very wanton. He shoved the handkerchief inside and wound the scarf twice around his mouth. He knotted it behind his head and listened to his noises. He also looked at his cock and saw it leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.  
He actually wanted to have a look at him from different angles now. He also wanted to make a few pictures with his phone. But he also knew he needed to ask him for his permission.

“Sherlock? I am getting off the bed now to look at you. I am not leaving this room. I am also asking if I am allowed to take a few pictures of you like this.” Sherlock nodded at once and also moaned as if he loved the idea. John kissed him between his shoulder-blades and went to retrieve his mobile.

John looked at him from every possible angle and also took pictures. Sherlock had straightened up and then slumped as if posing. And he probably was doing this for him. John was still rock-hard and leaking.

He dropped the mobile on his nightstand and climbed back on the bed kissing him everywhere. Sherlock quietly moaned from behind the gag. John was finally ready to take him. He knelt behind him and stroked himself. He had lube ready and slicked up his cock. The noises had alerted Sherlock and he lowered his body to make it easier for John to line up.

He held his cock and gently pressed on his hole. He slowly breached him and listened to the noises he made. Piece by piece he disappeared inside his body while he kept holding Sherlock's prick. When he stuck up to the hilt, he stopped moving but kept stroking. Sherlock moved and now both men groaned. John's free hand gently caressed his nipples.

John started to move his hips and pushed forward. He was close, very close. He felt Sherlock clench. His body shook with arousal and the noises he made were beautiful. This was amazing.

John pushed faster and faster and he also stroked and pulled Sherlock's prick. He heard him scream and felt his balls pull up. Sherlock came wildly and he screamed out his lust. The feeling and the sound muted by the fabric in and over his mouth made John come, too. He shot his load into the willing body in front of him.

He stayed put afterwards because he wasn't able to move. He panted and kissed the sweaty body. A quiet moaning sound came out of Sherlock but it didn't sound bad. John shook his head and took off the gag first. It was soaked and he just dropped it. Next followed the blindfold. Sherlock's eyes were closed but the noise kept coming. John took his pulse. It was slow but fine. He undid the ropes and placed him on his back all stretched out. There were marks from the rope but not too bad. They would disappear come morning. He massaged his limbs.

“Sherlock? Say something, please.” John quietly spoke to him and his eyes blinked open. He smiled.

“This has been wonderful. Thank you for giving this to me. It overrode a lot of bad. I can't tell you how much I love you...” He reached out with a shaking arm and John kissed his knuckles one by one.

“The sound you made. What was that?” John asked

“I was at a wonderful place. _Dreamland_. They said, sometimes you are able to reach that place when you are treated with love and respect and the perfect skill. It seems you can provide all of the above. It was amazing...” Then he started to cry. John felt helpless and just hugged him.

“Please, don't cry. There is no reason. Here, blow your nose.” They sat against the headrest and looked at each other.

“You are thinking very loudly, John. What bothers you?” Sherlock asked. John cast his eyes and blushed.

“I am not bothered. I am confused by my own thoughts. My own wishes.” John shook his head.

“Your fantasies?” Sherlock asked smiling and John just nodded.

“Tell me all about them.” He said but John shook his head.

“No, I possibly can't. This is too embarrassing.” John looked at his hands.

“After what you have just done, John, there is nothing that should embarrass you anymore.” He reached up and turned John's head to look into his eyes.

“Please, John. Don't hold back. You know, I would do anything for you. Anything you want, anything you desire.” His thumb stroked over his face.

“It looked like you enjoyed what I did. And I wonder if I could enjoy it, too.” John cast his eyes again.

“You want me to tie you up and fuck you both gagged and blindfolded?” Sherlock asked. John nodded.

“Yes, but differently. I would like to stand while you are fucking me. That's the only thing I know. You can use anything you want on me. You just have to do it while I am standing.” They looked into each other's eyes.

“I can do that, John.” And he kissed him.

***

The next day Greg arrived. John was obviously happy and looking forward to it. Sherlock was still a bit worried because he thought it too dangerous. But he was also curious. He only vaguely remembered the man by John's side from the auction. He wondered how he would treat him or if he would even talk to him.

But he shouldn't have worried at all. Gregory Lestrade was an open, friendly man. He also was a good-looking man who greeted him by shaking his hand. Sherlock was surprised and it showed. Then he hugged John and a pang of jealousy shot through his body. John looked at him. He must have felt something because he smiled and shook his head.

Sherlock felt stupid and followed them into the library where they had drinks. He was polite enough to stay for a while but then stood and excused himself. John smiled and so did Greg.

He left and went to see Tristan. It was what he needed right now. They never had any visitor before. Well, except for the inspector of whom they never heard again after his visit.

The moment he hugged the horse he felt much better and relaxed completely. Tristan nudged him and slobbered all over him. He stayed with him until dinner-time. He knew he had to shower and quickly hurried back. He heard their voices when he passed the door to the terrace but he didn't stop.

He showered and made himself presentable. John had bought him so many nice things to wear and he dressed up. He arranged his hair and made it artfully tousled. He used after-shave and finally got his jacket. He appeared inside the dining-room and both men turned their heads.

“God, this is wicked. He makes me feel way under-dressed!” Greg exclaimed but grinned saying so. Sherlock looked at John who just stared at him. And then he beamed at him. Sherlock preened and came closer.

“I am sorry if I am late.” Sherlock said and was handed a tumbler by John.

“You aren't late, love. Come over here and sit down. We have only just arrived.” They settled and Sherlock still was a bit shy around Greg. But it changed during dinner when Greg told him about his job. He could tell stories and Sherlock listened to him. He was excited and it wasn't boring at all. John kept mostly quiet and only shoved bowls and plates over to Sherlock to make him eat.

After dinner, they sat outside because the weather was still warm enough. Only Sherlock kept his jacket on. He noticed Greg looking at him and knew that this would be the moment.

“John explained what you did for him. He told me everything. I told him how I ended up at the auction. Now you tell us what you found.” Greg looked serious when he thought about how to start. John placed his hand on Sherlock's.

“I found your brother Mycroft. I contacted him, as well. We secretly met inside his club.” Sherlock tilted his head.

“The Diogenes Club. I remember.” Sherlock whispered and Greg nodded.

“Exactly. You aren't allowed to speak in there. It was weird.” Greg shook his head and Sherlock grinned.

“I know. I have been there when I was still a boy. I always embarrassed him a lot.” John could imagine that.

“Anyway, I told him about you. And it almost broke him. He cried, he couldn't stop for a long time, no matter what I tried to tell him about you now. He actually scared me and I didn't know what to do. Finally, I got close and pulled him into an embrace. I held him for a long time and provided Kleenex.”

Sherlock was shocked. He couldn't remember his brother crying. He just kept staring open-mouthed.

“When he was calming down, I poured him a stiff drink and then another. He told me; he had been abroad for a long time. He had been on a secret mission which explained why no one had been able to contact him because of your abduction. And when he returned, Sherrinford lied to him, of course. He tried to look for you but it was too late. Every single trace had been erased and was long time gone. You were gone.” By now Sherlock needed the tissue-box. He sat on the lounge-chair and cried his heart out. Greg felt uncomfortable and John was busy comforting Sherlock. He blew his nose again and sipped from his drink.

“What will happen now?” He roughly asked. Greg looked at John as if asking for permission. Sherlock turned his head to look at him, too.

“Tell Sherlock, Greg. He has to decide.” Sherlock looked at Greg.

“What? What is it?” He asked.

“Mycroft wants to see you, Sherlock.” Greg let the bomb drop.

“He wants to see me...” Sherlock repeated the words. Then he looked at John.

“Would you allow it?” It felt like a punch in the face. John paled considerably. He dropped Sherlock's hand and stood.

“I'll be right back...” He murmured and almost ran inside. Sherlock stood but Greg held him back.

“No, don't follow him. Don't you see what has just happened?”

“No, I don't. What did I do? He looked hurt and pained.” Sherlock whispered.

“Yes, he did, didn't he? Your question, it showed him how you still feel deep inside. You don't feel free.” Sherlock sat back down and pulled his long legs under.

“How could I feel free? John has bought me on a slave-auction. You were his company. I am not a free man anymore. I was sold into slavery. There are contracts about the transaction.” His voice was without emotion.

“Yes, he did. But he also loves you. Deeply. He wants you to be his companion, his mate, his man. He thinks you are all that. He never thought about you as a sex-slave. Or did he treat you like one?” At once he shook his head.

“Never! John is a good man. I love him.” Greg handed over a drink.

“Then you have to explain to him why you said what you said.” Greg looked serious.

“He won't like me anymore...” Greg loudly groaned.

“Utter nonsense!” He exclaimed.

“Right now, he has probably thrashed some furniture and pushed his fist into the wall. He is probably bleeding all over the tiles in the bath. You should go and look after him.” Sherlock looked shocked.

“What? He has never done anything like that.”

“No, not since he found you.” Greg sadly smiled and Sherlock hurried inside to look for John.

In the meantime, Greg composed a text.

_”I am with him. He is happy. Come over tomorrow.”  
GL_

He sent the text to a safe mobile and sipped his drink patiently waiting for Sherlock and John to return.

***

Sherlock found John in his bathroom. On his way, he had found several shredded pillows and one broken chair. Now the water over the sink was running and it turned red. Sherlock swallowed and moved up to him.

“What have you done, John?” He asked and had a closer look. John didn't react. He also didn't tell him to go away. Sherlock decided to take care of him.

“Let me help you, please.” He quietly said and John's body slumped. Sherlock took over and washed out his wound. He put a bandage around his hand and made him sit in an armchair. Not the bed. He knelt between his legs.

“John, I am sorry I hurt you with my words. You were right, it was what I felt. Feel.” The words made John look up and into his eyes.

“But you are not. You are the love of my life. I knew it the moment our eyes met. I thought I had shown you enough.”

“I know you love me. I can feel it every day. But the fact stays, you have bought me as a slave at a slave auction. I was sold by my brother into slavery. My former life has been erased.”

“What do you need from me?” John asked. Sherlock helplessly shrugged.

“The way you have asked for my permission to meet your brother, it was horrible. I felt horrible.” John said.

“I just thought it was the polite thing to do. This is your house. I am allowed to live here with you, to love you, but everything happens on your expenses. God, the amount you paid for me. How should I ever pay you back?”

“You _pay back_ every single moment you love me.” John replied. They looked at each other and Sherlock straightened his body to hug John. They held each other for a few minutes.

“We should return to our guest. We are behaving impolitely.” Sherlock stood saying it. John had to laugh but followed him.

“You two look hellish.” Greg said when they were back outside. He poured drinks.

“I am much better.” John said.

“So am I.” Both men looked at Greg who returned their gaze.

“'Well. I have texted your brother. He will be here by tomorrow.” Sherlock's eyes widened.

“Really?” His voice broke.

“Really.” John said and looked very pleased.

“I don't think I can sleep tonight.” Sherlock quietly said.

“I will be with you.” John said. Greg yawned.

“Which room do I have, John? I am tired.” John showed him while Sherlock finished his drink.

***

The next day Sherlock sat at the breakfast table but couldn't eat. He felt too sick to do so. Greg dug in and enjoyed a full English. So did John. Even the smell hurt Sherlock's stomach and he stood.

“I am sorry but I can't. Please excuse me.” John smiled up at him.

“Go and see Tristan. It will do you bloody good.” Sherlock's face lightened up and he hurried away.

“He likes horses?” Greg asked.

“He likes Tristan. He is the only one the horse lets close. It's amazing. It's his therapy.” John shrugged.

“I wonder how Mycroft reacts.” Greg said finishing his coffee.

“We might need more Kleenex.” They smiled a bit lopsided. Greg's mobile dinged.

“Five miles away.” He told John.

“Let's go outside and welcome him.” John stood and Greg followed him. Surprisingly Sherlock stood already there. He reached out for John who took his hand and pressed it.

After a few minutes, a sleek black sedan passed through the gate and rode up to the stairs. Sherlock's eyes followed the car until it stopped. The door was pushed open and a tall, ginger-haired man got out. At once he looked up and the moment, he saw Sherlock he pounded up the stairs. John let go of Sherlock and he threw himself into his brother's arms.

“Sherlock, you are alive...” He whispered holding him tight.

“Myc, I thought I had forever lost you.” He looked up at him because Mycroft was even taller than him.

“I couldn't find you. I never believed you were dead.” Then he let go of him and turned to John.

“Dr Watson, thank you for taking care of my brother.”

“He is the love of my life. And I don't even know your name.” Mycroft looked at Greg.

“You didn't tell him my name?” Greg just shrugged and grinned.

“It seems I forgot.” Mycroft sighed.

“Well, then I have to introduce myself properly. My name is Mycroft Holmes. I occupy a minor position in the British government.” Greg snorted.

“Minor my arse.” He muttered.

“Please, come inside. I have provided a small lunch. Sherlock, perhaps you could eat a little something by now?”

“I think I can.” They all walked inside and Sherlock didn't let go of his brother. There was a buffet in the dining-room and Mycroft looked happy.

“This is very kind, Dr Watson. Thank you.” He sat down and looked at the offerings. Then he looked at Greg.

“Would you be so kind?” He asked and Greg sighed. But he took a plate and put a selection on it. He placed it in front of him and smiled.

“You like?” He grinned when Mycroft just raised a brow. John watched Greg raising his brow, too.

“Thank you very much, Detective Inspector.” Somehow Mycroft Holmes looked like a shark, John thought. Sherlock didn't take anything, so John shoved a plate over with things he liked. Sherlock smiled looking at him. Greg filled a plate for himself, as well, and Sherlock wondered how he could eat again after his full English. John chose some fruit-salad. They all settled.

“How did you make it out here without being followed?” Greg asked.

“Oh, I actually spoke to Sherrinford about something I did while I was abroad. Then I told him I needed to relax for a weekend. He is always happy when I am out of the way. I haven't been followed. It's my private car outside but Anthea is behind me.” Greg nodded.

“Who is Anthea?” Sherlock asked.

“His PA.” Greg replied.

“No one.” Mycroft said at the same time.

“Anyway. It seems we are safe.” John said. Then he looked at Sherlock.

“You surely want to spend time with your brother. Do it. Show him the place, walk around as you like, spend the day.”

“But what about you, John?” Sherlock was looking a bit confused.

“I will spend time with Greg and have some fun watching the game.” Greg nodded enthusiastically.

“Have fun.” Mycroft said but it sounded like something else.

“I'll see you later, love.” John stood and pecked a kiss on his lips. Then he left with Greg. Mycroft and Sherlock stayed behind and their eyes met again.

“I can't even explain how glad I am, Sherlock.” Mycroft said pushing the plate away. The empty plate.

“He took me by surprise. I never would have thought, he would do something so horrible to me. I never had any intention to take over the family business.” Sherlock shook his head.

“I know but your exams and qualifications from the university were too good. He felt threatened by your skills. I dove a bit into his business and found several connections to slave-traders. He knew whom to contact to have taken you away. He chose a time when I was abroad doing stuff you can't know about.”

“What about mummy?” Sherlock dared asking.

“He told her you had gone missing, ran away into London taking drugs.” Sherlock was shocked.

“Did she believe his lies?” He asked and Mycroft shook his head.

“No, she didn't. But what could she have done? Father made her stop making inquiries and supported Sherrinford. She misses you a lot, Sherlock.”

“Let's walk outside for a bit.” Sherlock stood and Mycroft followed. He held on to his brother's arm while showing him around.

“Gregory says John Watson is a good man and treats you well. Is that really true?” Mycroft asked a while later. Sherlock seriously looked at him.

“Yes, John is a wonderful man. Greg had taken him to that auction and the moment he saw me, it was settled. I felt it, too, and he really did buy me. At first, I didn't know how he would treat me but from moment one he was polite and correct. He never did anything inappropriately to me. He never hurt me or hit me or caused me pain. Instead he bought me clothes and provided everything I needed.”

“But still you feel like a slave.” Mycroft just said.

“I still am a slave. Sherrinford sold me. John bought me. Nothing changes that.”

“Does Dr Watson know about the way you feel?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock told him about what happened.

“John doesn't see it like this. He is well aware of the fact he had bought me. But he thinks by treating me like family, it changes the facts. But it doesn't.” Sherlock sadly shook his head.

“What could he do to change it?” Mycroft asked.

“Nothing. He can do absolutely nothing.” Sherlock replied.

***

Inside Gregory joined John inside the man-cave. Sherlock never came here because he didn't like it. And John didn't want to have him in here just to have company. But now he had Greg over and they would watch the game. He already had stocked the fridge. They had crisps and right now there was popcorn being made in the microwave. It was all part of their ritual. They even wore football gear.

“I can't really see Sherlock in here wearing the colours.” Greg said looking at John.

“I showed him this room and explained what it was for. He looked at it and then told me, it wasn't meant for him.” John shrugged.

“Don't fret, I bet he is made for other things.” Greg grinned.

“He sure is. I wonder if I can make him find a hobby. I mean, he is intelligent and withers away mentally. He needs something to do.”

“He officially is a slave. He won't be given a proper job.” They looked at each other. John sighed.

“I know. Perhaps I should found a company and give him a job. I really don't know what to do.”

“We should wait for what happens next. I mean, the whole slave-business isn't right. He does deserve his life back. His family, meaning his brother and his mummy. I know there are still born slaves around and some sign contracts because of many debts but him? Or in general? I mean, look at you. What you have done to this property and your people. They all love you. You know that, don't you?” John looked at him.

“I did what was right. And I will do the same for Sherlock. Whatever is needed, I will do it.”

“Let's drink to that!” Greg said and they clinked their bottles.

***

Sherlock and Mycroft sat outside on the terrace. Mycroft tried to find a corner with shadows and Sherlock got a parasol over them.

“John has bought them solely for me.” He explained and opened one. They sat down and a maid appeared.

“Sherlock, what would you like for your guest and yourself?” The woman asked and Mycroft was surprised.

“Some lemonade and the cake, if you please.” She nodded and left.

“She is not a slave, is she?” Mycroft asked.

“She was, everybody on the premises was, but John changed that. Now they are his employees. He told me.” She came back and brought everything. Mycroft eyed the cake.

“Sherlock made it himself last night.” She gently touched his arm and left again. Now Mycroft really was surprised.

“You baked a cake?” He asked and Sherlock blushed.

“Yes, I wasn't able to sleep. And then I remembered you liked cake.”

“You remembered right.” Mycroft leant forward and cut off a piece for both himself and his brother.

“This is really good. It is even better because you made it, little brother.”

“I am extremely happy. Will you visit me again soon?” Sherlock asked. Mycroft almost choked and coughed. He emptied a glass full of lemonade.

“Sherlock, of course, I will visit you. But I also want to set you free. I promise to find a way to do so because you are not a slave.” Mycroft said.

“Don't get into harm’s way because of me. I told John the same. The Detective Inspector told him there was someone who paid a special fee to be informed about me at regular intervals. So, if John would try to set me free, Sherrinford would know about it. He would try to kill me this time. And John. This can't ever happen, neither to John or you. So, please don't forget the fact, that I am well taken care of and absolutely safe with John.”

“Don't worry. I thought I might provide files for you to work on. You can do it here. Gregory will provide everything.”

“But we endanger John. Nothing can happen to him, Myc.” Sherlock was serious.

“We will talk to him tonight. I am sure he is a willing participant.” Mycroft eyed the cake and Sherlock cut off another piece for him.

“Here you go. Some more lemonade, as well?” Sherlock asked.

“Tea perhaps?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock nodded. Tea was served and soon after John and Greg joined them looking all happy and excited. John wanted to hug him but he turned his head away.

“You are smelly, John.” He pulled a face. John grinned pressing against him and holding him tight.

“I know, the beer. I am sorry, my beloved. I'll go and brush my teeth.” He walked away again but Greg sat down and finished off the lemonade.

“What did you do all day?” He looked at them and Sherlock didn't answer. Mycroft cleared his throat.

“Sherlock showed me around and we walked for a while. This is a wonderful place John has.”

“That's right. Have you told Sherlock about your plan?” Sherlock was surprised that Mycroft had told Greg.

“I have. We will all talk about it later. I was told there will be dinner.” Greg shook his head.

“How can you eat so much? Where does it all go? I have to run every day for several miles to keep my weight in check. And look at you! It's not fair!” Mycroft looked down at himself.

“I am running, as well.” Mycroft stated glaring at Greg.

“Where? We should run together!” Greg suggested.

“I am running in my home on a treadmill. Outside there would be security running with me. No company.” Greg raised a brow and murmured something about _minor_ position.  
John returned and sat down with them. He actually had showered and Sherlock smiled at him. John took his hand.

“Better?” He quietly asked.

“Very much so.” Sherlock replied.

“Did you two have a nice day?” John asked looking at them. Mycroft nodded.

“Yes, absolutely. Sherlock showed me around. You have a wonderful home, Dr Watson. Did you know Sherlock baked a cake?” John's head turned.

“You did? When?” John really was surprised.

“Last night.” Sherlock said. Then John looked at the empty plate. Greg handed over the left-over of his piece and John took it. Sherlock was confused.

“You never said you wanted cake.” His eyes were wide and he obviously was worried.

“John has a very sweet tooth.” Greg provided information.

“If I'd known, I would have made you a cake, too. John, you have to believe me.” Now he sounded sad.

“I didn't even know you could do it.” John looked at him.

“My other skill-sets are much more asked for.” He replied and cast his eyes.

“Sherlock!” Mycroft chided. Under the table, Greg kicked against John's shin who in return had a closer look at Sherlock.

“I am neither annoyed or even angry. I am just surprised. But I like the idea of you baking something for me, cookies or a cake or whatever you like.” A small smile came back up and everyone relaxed again.

“Mr Holmes, I would offer you a guest-room but I think you might deny it.” John said.

“That's very kind of you, Dr Watson, but I can't stay overnight. My security is outside and this place hasn't been checked properly. It was hard enough to get them to agree into letting me here today. Only the fact that you are a high-decorated war veteran made it possible.”

“But you will stay for dinner?” Sherlock asked with wide eyes as if scared he would stand up and run away any minute now. Mycroft turned his head.

“I sure will. We still need to talk.” Sherlock relaxed. Right then the maid appeared.

“Dr Watson, the dinner-buffet has been arranged.”

“Thank you!” John replied and gone she was.

“Shall we?” They all walked into the dining-room. When everybody held his plate, Mycroft pulled a tiny device out of his pocket.

“There isn't much power left. Let's talk now.” John nodded.

“Very well. I would like to hear about how you want to get rid of your half-brother.” John looked dead serious.

“I can't go through official channels. But I will provide documents Sherlock can work with. We all have to be very careful.” Mycroft said.

“I will come back and deliver the documents. Me coming here will be normal. And I still wonder how you made it out here today without him finding out or having found out already.” Greg said.

“Well, I arranged an appointment with Lord Dempsey. He lives a few miles north of this place. We are good friends from university and he despises Sherrinford just as much as I do. He will provide whatever alibi is needed.” Mycroft explained.

“You never told me.” Greg looked disappointed.

“Why would I?” Mycroft looked at him.

“It would have shown you trusted me.” Now there was a bit of anger in his voice.

“If my brother wouldn't trust you, he would never have invited you into his club.” Sherlock interrupted. Greg looked at him now.

“You think?” Greg asked.

“I know.” Sherlock replied. John looked pleased.

“Please eat a bit more, Sherlock.” John poked Sherlock into the ribs.

“I made cook make your favourite.”

“So, I have seen.” And he stood to get his steak and ale pie. Mycroft looked at Greg again.

“Detective Inspector, would you mind coming into my club again to pick up the documents?” He asked.

“No, I don't mind at all but I think it will look rather suspicious if I go and see you more often due to no reason Scotland Yard could have.” Greg said thoughtfully.

“I will think of something. You might hear directly from your superior.” Mycroft said.

“I am sure I will...” Greg muttered. John was fairly surprised. Sherlock's brother must have power and by now he understood why Sherrinford Holmes had waited until he was abroad to arrange Sherlock's disappearance.

“You know, I could also come to London. I could go and see my lawyers while Sherlock waits in the hotel. You could go and see him there?” John suggested and Mycroft slowly nodded.

“You would have to cope with me being collared though. Can you do that?” Sherlock brutally asked.

“What?” Mycroft choked on a chip.

“Sherlock!” John chided.

“What? It's true and you know it. To not raise suspicion, you have to act and treat me like a slave.” He barely made it and didn't say _like the slave I am_.

“I can smuggle him out of there and meet my brother privately.” Mycroft said wiping over his eyes after his coughing-fit.

“You can do that.” Sherlock nodded.

“I am sorry but I needed to be brutally honest.”

“We understand. And your brother will cope with it.” Greg ensured him. Mycroft didn't correct him. They enjoyed the dessert and finally Greg stood.

“I have to leave, I am sorry.” John stood and walked him to the door. Sherlock stood, too.

“It was nice to meet you, Greg. Thank you for your help.” Sherlock carefully reached out and Greg took his hand. He gently shook it.

“You are welcome. You do him bloody good, mate.” He smiled and Sherlock blushed looking at John. He watched him climbing into his car and start it. But it only made sick noises and John raised a brow. Mycroft appeared outside, too.

“That does not sound good, does it?” He said and the sound of his voice made Sherlock turn his head and raise a brow.

“Myc, what did you do?” He whispered.

“Nothing.” But Sherlock very well remembered that face. His brother had achieved what he wanted. And probably he would offer Greg a ride back into London.  
Greg came back and shrugged.

“It's broken. I don't know what's wrong. It's rather new. Damn it!” He swore.

“I'll gladly provide a ride back for you, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft offered.

“I'll happily accept it, Mycroft. Thank you.” Greg wasn't suspicious.

“Mr Holmes, you'll send the documents, so we can start working?” John asked.

“I sure will. Expect everything during the next days.” He shook hands with John. Then he turned to his brother.

“Sherlock, it was a very special day. I am extremely happy, you know that, don't you?” He said.

“Yes, I do, Myc. It was a wonderful day for me, too.” They hugged each other.

“Don't scare him away, Myc. He is a good man.” Sherlock whispered into his ear. Mycroft smiled.

“I won't. I like him.” They let go of each other and Sherlock wiped a tear away. Mycroft and Greg stood by the car and somehow Greg ended up behind the wheel. They waved good-bye and John had to pull Sherlock inside after the car was gone.

“Come on, love. They will be back soon.” Sherlock sighed but followed.

“You know, my brother had Greg's car manipulated, right?” He said when they were sitting outside again.

“What?” John exclaimed.

“He wanted to be alone with him. He likes him.” Sherlock explained.

“Aha.” John said and Sherlock tilted his head.

“You don't approve.” He stated a bit sadly.

“I don't approve of damaging his car. I approve of him going for it.” John grinned.

“Oh.” Sherlock was confused.

“How did he do it anyway?” John wondered.

“He had his people surrounding your home. He surely texted someone and arranged it.” Again, John looked sad. He stood and pulled Sherlock up.

“Your home.” He said quietly. Sherlock didn't understand.

“It's your home, too. I hope so anyway.” Sherlock still didn't get it.

“I am living here with you, so yes.” Sherlock said.

“But why don't you say it? You just said _He had his people surrounding your home_. Not _our_ home. You need to know that this is all yours, too.” Sherlock swallowed and his eyes swam in tears.

“Perhaps one day it will be.” John very well understood.

“Will you come upstairs with me and do what I asked you to?” This Sherlock understood.

“You want to do it tonight? Do you really feel like it?” He asked and John nodded.

“I need it tonight.” Sherlock looked John over and finally agreed.

“OK. Let's see what I can use on you.” They walked upstairs and into John's bedroom.

“I have ordered stuff. It got delivered already. Go and have a look. It's all in the wardrobe over there.” John pointed it out and Sherlock walked over and opened it. After a minute he looked over his shoulder.

“You sure thought of everything. I can work with this.” He said all smile.

“I hope so.” John swallowed.

“I'll just pop to the loo.” Sherlock nodded and started to collect stuff. At first, he arranged the restraints-system over the door. Then he waited for John to return.

“Are you ready then?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, I am.” Sherlock raised a brow. John's eyes widened.

“I am sorry, Sir.” He quickly added the honorific. This was supposed to be a proper play.

“Come over here and stretch your arms over your head.” John wondered why he wasn't told to undress but simply did as Sherlock told him. Then he knew why because Sherlock slowly lifted up his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. His chest was naked. Sherlock adjusted the restraints and closed the cuffs around his wrists. He lowered his head and tenderly licked over his nipples but only once left and right. John glared at him but didn't speak. Next, he opened his trousers and pulled them and his boxers down.

“Step out.” John did and now he was completely naked. Sherlock got a spreader-bar and got his ankles cuffed. He hooked this to the door, as well, and spread them quite a bit. He looked at John's cock. It was halfway up already.

“I found a mask in there. Did you buy it for me or for you?” Sherlock asked.

“Both of us, Sir.” Sherlock hummed and picked it up. He looked at John again and saw how he licked his lips. Sherlock tilted his head and held it up. John nodded and his cock twitched. That was enough for Sherlock. He pulled the mask over John's head and pulled the strings through the tiny holes. On the way he adjusted it so the openings for his nose sat just right, the plugs stuck in his ears and the gag could be moved behind his teeth. John groaned when he buckled the mask on his neck. The blindfold came next and got buckled, too. At last, he pushed the gag all the way in and buckled it tight. John groaned and was fully erect by now. Sherlock once stroked his cock and he shook and screamed. He also rubbed over his flat stomach and felt him tremble. He reached into his pocket where he had put some things before. He hadn't wanted to leave John untouched with the mask on. He once pulled his balls and his erection was gone. John groaned and pulled at the restraints. The cock-ring got pulled over both his prick and testicles. Then he knelt in front of him and gently inserted a penis-plug into John's dick. He absolutely didn't move but the breathing through his nose and the noises were quite clear. His cock was up in no time and the jewel on top of the plug shone in the dimmed light.

Sherlock again licked over his nipples, he sucked and teased them. John groaned and his head bumped against the door. Sherlock held him and he stopped. His free hand moved over his thigh to soothe him.  
He got the clamps out of his pockets and placed them on his nipples. Since he had once begged John to not use clamps on him, these could only be meant for himself.

John groaned. A heavy chain dangled between them. Sherlock couldn't resist and pulled. John moved with the pull until there was no more room to do so. Sherlock dropped the chain after several seconds and watched John carefully. But there weren't any stress signals.

Sherlock reached between his legs and massaged behind his balls and perineum. John howled and the sound very much surprised him. Was he making such sounds, as well? He really didn't know.

John was tight when he breached him and moved his finger inside. He was very careful and looked for any stop signal. They had talked about it and agreed on crossed fingers if John wanted to stop. But still, there wasn't a signal. Sherlock found his prostate and started to tease. John screamed and Sherlock pressed him against the door. The power he held right now felt amazingly good. Soon he was able to use three fingers and John would fuck himself on them if Sherlock wouldn't press him against the door. At last, he got the plug out of his pocket and sucked it wet himself. He gently moved it inside and it caused no problem at all. He switched it on and watched John's muscles when he fought against the restraints.

Sherlock decided to take pictures, as well. John could delete them if he wanted but he could try. He even made a film while he kept moving. It was quite the sight.

He went down on his knees again and fucked him with the penis-plug. John's knees buckled and Sherlock knew it was time. He pulled out both plugs and just dropped them. He took off the spreader-bar and freed his ankles from the restraints-system. He stepped up very close and placed both hands on his arse. He bent his knees and John understood. He jumped and Sherlock held him. He had freed his cock already. He had also been taught how to do this and now he used his training for something good.

John stuck on his prick and his head rested on his shoulder. He still groaned but his muscular thighs were tight around his body. Now Sherlock groaned, too, pressing and bumping against the door. He also reached between their sweaty bodies and removed the cock-ring. Next, he reached over his head and released his hands. At once his arms fell and his hands were on his shoulders.

Sherlock quickly moved and fell forward with John. They ended up on the bed and Sherlock kept moving inside him all the time. The last things to take off were the clamps and he started to pull at the chain. John's hands were tight when he gripped his body arching up. But he came when Sherlock took off the clamps both at a time. His arms fell off his body while he clenched around Sherlock. He still held back to increase John's pleasure when gently licking his abused nipples. He only had to push twice after John's orgasm to get his release.

He gently pulled out. At once he rolled John on the side to get the mask off. He pulled and threw it off the bed. He looked up and saw his eyes were closed. His hear was wet against his head and his lips were opened.

“John?” Sherlock quietly asked and rubbed over his chest. He groaned but no more.

“Please say something!” Sherlock shook him. Now he shook his head and Sherlock let go. What did this mean? Was he angry? Was he hurt? Or worse? Sherlock watched him and sat back. He wrung his hands and didn't know what to do. So, he just waited.

***

John very much enjoyed what Sherlock did to him. He never had felt anything remotely close to this and he even blacked out several times. Sometimes he wondered what he was doing to him.

The mask really had been a great idea. The loss of his senses enhanced everything multiple times. It felt like Sherlock's hands were everywhere at once. He knew he made noises but couldn't hear a thing.

The moment when Sherlock's hands pressed on his behind, he knew what he wanted and jumped. The feeling of Sherlock's cock inside him was the best he had ever felt. Of course, he was tight and it burnt. Yes, it even hurt but John enjoyed it anyway. The feelings afterwards when they bumped on the bed and he got fucked to orgasm, he couldn't even describe it.

He felt Sherlock come, too, and pull out. He was so gentle with him. The mask came off and John just stayed put. He didn't move and he wasn't able to speak. The last ripples went through him and he was simply paralysed. He didn't realise that Sherlock was deeply worried and very concerned.

It took John more than ten minutes to get back online. He slowly turned his head and his eyes found Sherlock kneeling by his side on the bed staring at him. It was a bit weird.

“Sherlock? What's wrong?” He croaked and cleared his throat. Sherlock handed him a bottle of water.

“I don't know. You wouldn't speak to me afterwards. I couldn't...” He shook his head and his lips quivered.

“I didn't even realise you spoke to me. I was gone. You made me feel like never before and I needed time to come back from a place I have never been before. I am sorry I scared you, love. You did something wonderful for me.” John reached out but his arm shook.

At once Sherlock pulled him up and into his arms. Now he cried.

“God, you can't do this to me. I thought I hurt you. I thought you were angry with me. Am I doing the same? If I do it, I am very sorry, too.” John hung in his embrace.

“I am not hurt and I am so not angry. I love you. I also want to repeat this. This was amazing...” John sighed and yawned.

“We should shower before bed.” Now it was John who pulled a face but knew he was right. He slumped into the shower with Sherlock who gently cleaned him. He placed him into an armchair while he changed the bedding. He did it all naked to keep John awake.

“Come on, I am done.” Sherlock said and watched John sway over and fall into bed. He very well understood how he was feeling. He smiled and looked at John's still red nipples. He lowered his head and gently licked over them. His hand reached between John's legs. He stroked him several times very slowly and kept suckling his nipples.

John moaned when Sherlock moved beneath the blanket and closed his lips around his cock. John came and Sherlock took it. The moment he kissed him afterwards, John fell asleep beneath him, completely exhausted.


	6. London

A few days later they rode into London. They hadn't heard from Greg, not really. He just sent a text telling them he was busy on a special course down south. Mycroft had arranged their meeting.  
John had booked a special room in a five-star hotel where slaves were a daily routine. He didn't like it at all but everything needed to be perfect.

The morning they wanted to leave Sherlock had picked the collar he had last worn for the inspection. He handed it over to John and knelt on the hardwood. John buckled it but not too tight.

“One more, John. This isn't tight enough.” John gritted his teeth but did what Sherlock said.

“Please get up. I still don't know what to dress you into.” His voice sounded angry and he held back.

“You need to relax. It's just for the outside. The moment we are in my brother's place, it will be over. You need to play the game to change it. Please, you have to come down.” John's flat hand hit the wardrobe-door hard. He exhaled and only then turned to look at Sherlock.

“I really don't understand how you can be so calm.” Sherlock slowly stood and came over to him.

“One of us has to be.” He palmed John's face and kissed him.

“Now my clothes. You are a highly regarded man with lots of money. Your personal slave must therefore look like it. You have bought me such wonderful suits. I will leave the first two buttons open, so everyone can see my collar.”

“Here we go.” John handed him some clothes and Sherlock got dressed. The trousers fit perfectly. The shirt sat a bit tight but John licked his lips already. The moment Sherlock was ready, he again looked at John.

“Every single moment we are out in the open, you will have to act. Normally, a slave like me would be riding tied up in your car. But since your car doesn't have the needed attachments, we have to be inventive.”

“It seems I really have no idea about daily life in the city.” John sadly shook his head.

“No, you really don't. But I have to trust you to do it right. You can't hesitate.” John just nodded.

“You will need a driver for your sedan. You can't drive yourself.” Sherlock said.

“I know. I already arranged that. There is a man who works here who was a driver. I already talked to him and he will do it. He wants to help but has no idea what he has gotten himself into.”

“Very good. We will be sitting in the back. Before we get out in front of the hotel, you have to cuff my hands and use a muzzle on me.” Sherlock stated.

“A muzzle?” John asked a bit shocked.

“Yes, a muzzle. Just because I know you won't use the drug to mute me.” John shook his head.

“OK, and I will pull you around by the leash hooked to your collar, is that right?” John asked and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes.” They looked at each other.

“I wonder though how we get you into your brother's place without being noticed? I mean if Sherrinford has his spies they will surely know how you look.” Sherlock nodded again.

“We will leave the hotel and you will secretly meet up with one of Mycroft's people. We will change cars and I will get into the trunk of the second car. The meeting will take place in a rented house on the countryside. The car will be driven into the garage and the door will be closed. Only then I will get out again.”

“But what about Greg?” John asked.

“Greg will be joining us two days later. He really is at the coast being taught something he already knows. It will be incredibly boring but it will make it easier for him to join us on his way back up.” Now John nodded.

“Very complicated but needed.”

“Are you sure you will manage?” Sherlock seriously asked.

“Because if not, we have to stop this right now.” They looked into each other's eyes.

“I have doubts. No, I had. Now I know it must be. And I do it for you. Only for you. The thought will help." John looked at Sherlock and continued to speak.

"It really seems your brother took care of everything. I should have paid more attention to the documents you were working on." John sadly shook his head. Sherlock stepped up and lowered his head.

“You know, we could make this into a game. Perhaps it will help you.” John closed his eyes.

“Your freedom isn't a game, Sherlock, but I appreciate your idea. And I will do it, make it into a game.” They kissed.

***

Half an hour later they sat in the car with a driver in the front. They were separated and private in the back.

“Are you ready?” John asked dangling the cuffs in front of Sherlock.

“Yes, Sir.” He moved on his knees and turned around. John closed the cuffs on his back. Next, he got the muzzle and buckled it tight around his head. Sherlock closed his eyes. John reached between his legs and once pressed down on Sherlock's groin. The noise was almost inaudible.

John opened his trousers and pulled them over his arse. He reached between his legs. He attached a cock-ring and when fastening it around and between his testicles, he felt the plug's handle between his legs. They locked eyes and John saw the smile in Sherlock's eyes.

“You are such a perv.” John chided but grinned. He closed his trousers again. Sherlock laughed and settled between his legs.

During the ride, John carded through his hair and gently held him. And when the driver announced they were reaching the hotel; John hooked the leash to Sherlock's collar.

The door was opened from the outside and John climbed out pulling his slave along. Several people, both men and women, looked at him with Sherlock. Actually, it made John feel good. Proud even. This was his man.

He gave him a quick once-over and saw his erection through the tight trousers. He smirked and Sherlock cast his eyes.

“Naughty!” John chided while handing over his credit-card and signing in. He placed the leash over Sherlock's shoulder. When he turned back, he simply pointed down and Sherlock fell on his knees at once. John took the leash back and made him go along on his knees all the way up into their suite. Again, many eyes followed him.

Upstairs inside his suite, he dropped the leash. But since Sherlock had said they had to be careful, he continued to play. He got off the muzzle and instead used a ring-gag that forced his mouth wide open. At once Sherlock started to drool. It always turned John on.

It knocked and they locked eyes. Sherlock threw himself on the carpet and groaned loudly. John went to open the door.

“What?” He yelled at the boy standing there with a fruit-bowl. He looked scared to death.

“With compliments from the management, Sir.” He stuttered looking at Sherlock who groaned as if in pain.

“Whatever.” John said and ripped the bowl from the boy's hands. Then he slammed the door closed in his face without giving a tip. He once went through the content and found what he was looking for. A tiny device that would give every word away. He looked at it and held it up for Sherlock to see. He just nodded. John closed his eyes for a moment and continued to punish his slave.

***

Later that day Sherlock was naked and tied to the bed. He was sweaty and still gagged. John had just taken the plug out of his behind and he clenched around nothing. He looked at John who already lined up. It was over quickly and Sherlock hadn't even come. But he didn't mind. By now John buried his head under a pillow and breathed hard.  
Several minutes later he was back.

“You are disgustingly dirty and smelly. I need to give you a wash, bitch.” He took him off the bed and brought him into the bath. He opened all the faucets and closed the door. No one would be able to listen in now.  
At once they kissed and hugged.

“You were doing great, John. No one will be suspicious. And I am not hurt, believe me.” John had tears in his eyes.

“But I am hurt, love. This is horrible. All the other people with their slaves in here. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had no idea...” He sadly shook his head.

“It is legal to own slaves, John.” Sherlock said.

“It doesn't make it right.” John replied filling the tub. Sherlock groaned when climbing inside. John sat behind him and gently washed him.

“Your brother sent a text. There will be a business meeting tonight. I am supposed to buy a company and meet up with the owner. He also is connected to Sherrinford. Mycroft believes he sent him to spy on us. Our play has to be perfect.” John said.

“It will be.” Sherlock said.

***

John had prepared Sherlock. He had tied a rope-harness around his upper body. Behind Sherlock's teeth sat a ball-gag. It was a rather big one and he drooled. Saliva dripped from his chin. His calves were tied to his thighs and between his knees was a spreader-bar. Instead of using clamps John had vacuumed his nipples and made them swell. Sherlock's cock was in a rope-harness, too, and a penis-plug stuck inside it. Inside his arse stuck a huge plug.

Sherlock had asked for something cruel, so everything looked _real_. John was a bit helpless. Sherlock told him to use a clamp between his nostrils. The moment the clamp was closed Sherlock started to cry. A few more clamps were put on his balls. He wasn't able to sit on his heels with both the spreader-bar and the clamps.

Sherlock had ensured John he could bear this for the time being. John had to believe him.

His appointment was on time and John opened the door inviting him inside. The man's eyes roamed over Sherlock and he licked his lips. Then he looked at John.

“You are a very lucky man, Dr Watson. I have heard about the auction.” John pleasantly smiled.

“Yes, he actually is worth the money I have paid. Most of the time. Sometimes though he needs to be punished. Like now. He needs to stay still. He twitches too much. So, this is a lesson. But he in fact has many useful skills.” He said. They laughed.  
Then they talked and finally, John told him he needed the night to think about it. He wasn't pleased with the price and kept shaking his head. His visitor sighed and stood casting a last look at the kneeling slave.

“Very well, Dr Watson. I will call you tomorrow. Good night and have some fun.” He cruelly laughed and left.

John closed his eyes and exhaled. He moved over to Sherlock and carded through his hair. He took off the gag. At once Sherlock was going for his groin.

“No!” John exclaimed and their eyes met. Sherlock looked clueless but bit his lips to prevent words coming out of his mouth. He took away the spreader-bar and the ropes as well as the clamps from his balls.

“Bath and bed. Now.” Sherlock padded away. Looking into the mirror he removed the clamp from his nose. After having used the loo and brushing his teeth he simply climbed into bed. John had cleared the room and now went through his bathroom-routine. He switched off the lights and came to bed. He looked into Sherlock's eyes and folded his body around him. He didn't sleep.

Actually, Sherlock was really tired out. He also was confused and by now even more. What happened here? What was wrong with John? He didn't dare to touch him and stiffly laid in his arms by his side. He felt John's fingers drawing circles and other things on his skin. The moves made him sleepy and after some time his eyes drooped and he fell asleep.

It wasn't a good sleep though because nightmare after nightmare tormented his abused mind. In each and every one of them John turned into a beast and tortured him, raped him, and hurt him. He wasn't able to wake up.

***

The next day they were supposed to meet Mycroft. Sherlock was looking forward to it. John looked hellish but so did he. They didn't speak. John just dressed him again, put the muzzle and collar back on and hooked the leash to it. The handcuffs were closed in the front this time.

Instructions had been sent by text and they followed them. They rode in silence and changed cars. Sherlock climbed into the trunk and John closed the lid after having taken off the muzzle. Then he sat in the back of Mycroft's car. They were driven to a manor in the countryside. It was beautiful. The gate was guarded and so was the house. The car rode into a garage and John got out of the car to open the trunk. They locked eyes and John could see Sherlock had cried during the ride. He ground his teeth and helped him out. He also removed the collar and made a step back.

Mycroft appeared to greet them and at once saw that something was wrong.

“Dr Watson, please come inside and relax. My assistant will take care of you.” The driver, actually a woman Mycroft called Anthea, gently moved John deeper into the house. Sherlock threw himself into his brother's arms the moment John was gone. He cried his heart out.

“What's wrong, little brother?” Mycroft asked stroking over his back.

“I don't know. He seemed to be doing just fine. I knew it was hard for him but it worked. We decided to make it into a game. But after his meeting with that potential seller, he changed. He didn't speak to me; he didn't want to be touched. During the night he just clung to me. He gave me bloody nightmares, Myc. I don't know what's wrong.” Mycroft had listened to him and actually thought that John Watson was too weak for this. But then he wasn't. It was all about Sherlock.

“Come on inside. You need to relax, too. We will have lunch together. You need to be the strong one, Sherlock. You can't cry or be confused. You have to show him that this will work. If he doesn't work with us, the plan fails.”

“I know...” Sherlock followed his brother into the house. They joined Anthea and John who already held a drink. Sherlock was given one, too. John didn't look up. Mycroft looked at Anthea who carefully shrugged and left. Mycroft closed his eyes and Sherlock made a few steps back. He knew that Mycroft would tell John off any second now. And right he was.

“Get a fucking grip on yourself, Dr Watson! You are a soldier! Behave like one! Save your love! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled at him. With his public-school accent, it sounded even worse.

John stood and smashed the tumbler into the fire-place. Then he glared up at Mycroft.

“If you want me to behave like a soldier, you should give me a bloody weapon so I can go and kill Sherrinford!” He yelled back. Mycroft just looked at him. This was such a simple solution; he hadn't thought of it.

“All this complicated shit isn't necessary. I am a skilled marksman, a sniper. I can do it. You just have to provide the situation, the place, and I will do it.” John breathed heavily.

“OK.” Mycroft said.

“OK? Just OK? This is just great!” John muttered and got himself a fresh drink.

Sherlock had watched everything. His hand holding his tumbler was shaking. John still wasn't acknowledging him. He quietly left the room and looked around for another place he could stay. He found a bedroom upstairs and closed the door. He toed off his shoes and socks and only shed his jacket. Then he climbed into the bed and pulled up the blanket. He was exhausted and bone-tired by now. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Downstairs Mycroft sighed and rubbed over his face.

“John, we all knew it would be hard. And you have done so well at the beginning. What went wrong?” He quietly asked.

“I realised that the slaves were real. I mean, I have set mine free. I know about slaves. They were given to me. But I never realised the illegal side of everything, not really. My stomach tells me this is all wrong but I was hiding at my place. Then I had to take Sherlock into that hotel and treat him like a slave. We made it a game and it somehow worked for a while. I knew it was all for him. But it hurt me, hurt my soul. All the time in the hotel, I couldn't really speak to him due to the listening device. And after the seller left, he wanted to suck me. And I pushed him away. I couldn't. Before that happened, I tried to sleep with him. I fucked him and I came. But he didn't. I am so deeply confused...” He shook his head. Then he slowly sat down again and buried his face in his hands.

Mycroft had listened to everything.

“You lived in a world of denial. And now you have woken up. You have to get a grip on yourself, John. For Sherlock.” Mycroft turned around to speak to his brother but found he was gone.

“Sherlock?” He asked but got no answer. Now John looked up.

“Where did he go?” John stood and angrily wiped over his eyes.

“I didn't even notice...” Mycroft said.

“Neither did I.” John replied.

“I will look downstairs. You go upstairs.” They parted and John climbed up the stairs calling out for him. He finally found him fast asleep. The blanket was up to his nose and John relaxed a little bit. He didn't want to wake him and returned to find Mycroft.

“We should let him sleep. He will join us when he wakes up.” Mycroft said. John nodded.

“Let's talk about killing Sherrinford.”

***

“I can surely steer him into a suitable position, so you can shoot him. It's no problem. What do you prefer, the city or the country?” John looked at him.

“I prefer a place where I can hide safely. I don't care. The city though would be good because of the many people. It's easier to hide amongst the masses.” Mycroft nodded.

“I see. His offices are in a high-rise in central London but you won't get through the window. They are thicker than normal glass due to the height.” Mycroft said.

“But they aren't specially made to counter an attack from the outside?” John asked.

“No, since I am checking all his expenses for the books, I know that for sure. They are not.”

“Then I just need a suitable weapon. It's no problem to shoot from a building opposite. The distance doesn't matter.” John knew what he was capable of.

“Tell me what kind of weapon you want and I'll provide it. But you can never tell Gregory about it. He mustn't know.” Mycroft said. John raised a brow.

“No one calls him Gregory.” He said.

“I do call him Gregory.” Mycroft replied and it made John smile. He could talk about Greg and it would make him relax.

“Have you two got closer then?” He asked. A tiny shade of red appeared on Mycroft's face and he cast his eyes.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” He muttered and turned away to pour himself a drink.

“Please, Mycroft. Greg is my best friend and I love him. I could see he was attracted to you and so were you to him. Did you wine and dine him?” John curiously asked.

“You won't stop asking, I assume?” Mycroft said and John just looked at him. He sighed but began to speak.

“Yes, I was very attracted to the Detective Inspector. I believe, he was flirting at me. I had no idea what to do. I wasn't able to read him. Normally I know everything about everyone in a second but not him. I was helpless.”

“You were anything but. You had his car manipulated to make him drive with you. You actually made him drive you. Did he find out?”

“Yes, he did. He yelled at me while driving over the motorway. It was scary and I almost got sick.” John grinned.

“He is feared for his temper tantrums.” John nodded.

“When we reached my place, I told him I was sorry and invited him for dinner. He accepted.” John laughed.

“I bet he was horny as hell.” Mycroft blushed a bit more.

“I had to get my security team out of the house and in the meantime, Gregory found my kitchen. I joined him there and he wordlessly pointed out the missing food in the fridge. I told him I was going to order food from a restaurant. But I still had no idea how he _ticked_.” Mycroft sipped his drink.

“How did it turn out?” John wanted to know because Greg hadn't told him shit.

“We had dinner. We drank wine. He obviously liked it and his mood was fantastic. He looked at me and finally made a move. I was paralysed.” Mycroft pulled a face. John was fascinated. He knew that Greg was bi-sexual but with Mycroft, he didn't know. He sure was a dominant person but right now he didn't know.

“You are right, John. I am very dominant but I only ever had sex inside a club. I never was in a relationship. I have no idea about how to behave outside a rented room.”

“What did Greg do?” John asked.

“He advanced and stood between my legs. He knelt down and his eyes never left mine. I was lost when he licked his lips. I pulled him close by his lapels and kissed him. It was good.” He smiled when he remembered.

“But you two did not stop then, did you?” John wanted to know.

“God, no, we did not. I held his wrists behind his back and my other dove for his handcuffs. I took them from his belt and he cheekily grinned up at me. I closed them around his wrists and my foot pushed his legs further apart. I could see how aroused he was and it made me feel giddy.” Mycroft drank some more.

“Greg is a great guy. Don't spoil it, Mycroft.” John seriously said.

“I won't.” They smiled and settled in their armchairs waiting for Sherlock to wake up.


	7. The Kill

Sherlock slept for several hours. He was a bit surprised when finding he was alone in that room. Somehow, he had expected, hoped, that John would be with him. He swallowed and became worried.  
He quickly freshened up and used a still wrapped toothbrush to clean his teeth. He hurried downstairs and found both his brother and John in the library reading.  
John looked much better and more relaxed than before. He stood at once when he saw him.

“Sherlock, there you are. Are you better?” He asked and moved up to him reaching out.

“Are you?” Sherlock asked and John nodded.

“Yes, I am. I talked to your brother. It's all settled. I am sorry, I made you worry or even scared you.” Sherlock made a step forward and hugged him. They kissed until Mycroft cleared his throat.

“Please, there are guest-rooms.” They parted and sat down.

“What did you two talk about? What has been settled?” Sherlock asked and everything was explained to him. He thought about it and finally nodded.

“Simple. But I think it should work.” Sherlock said.

“That's what I think, as well.” Mycroft added.

“Did you know about your brother and Greg?” John asked and Sherlock looked at him.

“I saw a lot going on between them. I hoped that Myc would end up with him. Did you end up with him?” He asked.

“Yes, I did. We are seeing each other regularly.” Mycroft said.

“That sounds like a rent-boy's agreement, Myc.” Sherlock chided. John almost choked on his drink.

“It is surely not, Sherlock.” Mycroft said. Sherlock rubbed over his non-existing stomach.

“Are you providing dinner or does John has to go hunting deer?” He asked. John choked again.

“John will go hunting for something else, brother-dearest. Dinner will be served at 7 o'clock sharp. We are still expecting company.” He smiled. Sherlock checked the time. There was still half an hour left.

“Don't I get a drink?” Sherlock asked looking at his brother. John stood and poured him a drink. He brought it over to him and sat on his armrest.

“Here you are. I am happy, I don't have to act around here.” Sherlock took the drink.

“I am happy to have you back to almost normal. What happened hasn't been good. You made me worry.” He seriously said.

“I know and I am very sorry.” Right then a bell rang and Mycroft stood.

“My guest has passed the gates. He will be here in a few.”

“Why don't you say his name, Myc?” Sherlock asked.

“It is Greg, isn't it?” John asked.

“Yes, it is Gregory. He is a day early since the course he attended ended several hours earlier than planned. He left right away and didn't stay for another night. Why would he when he can be here?” He asked.

“Yes, why would he?” Sherlock and John said together.  
Mycroft turned his head and Greg entered the room. A bright smile was on his face when he looked around.

“Myc, hey.” He slung his arms around him but Mycroft stayed stiff and even turned his head away when he tried to kiss him. Greg sighed and dropped his arms.

“You do remember, we talked about this?” Greg asked and turned away. Mycroft bit his lips but wouldn't reply.

“John, Sherlock. It's good to see you again.” John stood and hugged him. A nonverbal communication took place. Afterwards, he nodded at Sherlock knowing better than to touch him. But he got a smile in return.

“So, what about dinner?” Mycroft looked at his pocket-watch.

“It should be ready. Let's move into the dining-room.” Greg followed him and so did Sherlock and John. Dinner was prepared like a buffet. The servants would leave the house and they would be free to talk. They each took a plate and chose their food. Sherlock licked his lips looking at his brother who smiled back at him. Then he loaded up his plate. John was surprised and stared.

“These are my favourites. Myc knows and had them prepared for me.” He really looked happy.

“Why didn't you tell me? I would have cooked them for you, too.” John was rather disappointed.

“You very well know why. We have talked about it.” Sherlock replied and John understood. He sighed and filled his plate, too. Mycroft put some salad on his and sat down. Greg brought him a second plate that was filled with real dinner.

“Please, eat.” He sat down, too. During dinner, Mycroft told them about the new plan. He had actually decided to include Greg. He only didn't tell who the marksman actually was. John understood and kept quiet.

“The idea is simple but good. And I have never said that since I am a police officer.” Greg ate some more chips. He had already finished a steak. Mycroft had wanted to appease him and had eaten everything Greg had put before him. His reward was a hand on his and he let him. Sherlock was on his second plate and devoured a lot. John was happy but he wasn't able to eat much. He still felt a bit sick when thinking about London and the hotel. He swore to himself that if this was over and Sherlock had been set free, he would keep fighting for freedom and end slavery.

The moment he had made that decision, he felt the hunger and started to eat. Sherlock noticed and felt better all of a sudden.

After dinner, they sat in the library. Greg occupied an armchair and Mycroft had lowered his body on the armrest to be close. Sherlock and John shared an armchair with Sherlock on John's lap. It was one of Sherlock's best-liked positions and he relaxed completely against John.

“When will you start arranging everything?” John asked and Mycroft stood again.

“Tomorrow morning. I will check some files to find a proper marksman for the job. I will also check on the surrounding buildings of Sherrinford's office and other sites. After I have found a marksman, I will arrange a meeting to talk about business with him. Since I am doing the books and check on all the businesses abroad, he will trust me.”

“The moment his death is confirmed, you will be set free, love. You will be a free man again.” John looked up at him and Sherlock lowered his head pecking a kiss on his nose.

“At first you will have to go through all his companies. He will use them for his trafficking-business, illegal slaves, and everything. It will reach far into the east, I think.” Greg said.

“We will follow every trace. We will set free everyone who has been forced into slavery. That must be the first step.” Mycroft said and they all nodded. They all knew afterwards came more.

***

Later John joined Sherlock in his room he had chosen this afternoon. Their luggage had been brought up here but now they were finally alone.

“Do you mind me being here?” John quietly asked standing beside the bed on which Sherlock was sprawled. Slowly Sherlock turned his head and he sat up.

“What kind of stupid question is that?” He asked.

“I would understand, you know? I behaved very stupidly earlier. I mean, I understood if you wanted to wait until the matter has been solved and...” Sherlock interrupted.

“I am the bloody matter! Now come to bed at once. I believe another game is in order with you as the bottom.” He seriously said. John swallowed and sat on the edge.

“I agree and also consent. You are right...” He lowered his head and closed his eyes. From behind Sherlock placed his hands on his shoulders and kissed his nape.

“You need to come down. I will help you. You can sort through your brain. You will feel much better afterwards. You will be completely relaxed.” Sherlock said. John just nodded.

“Then just stay. You know how to stop me if needed.” John nodded again. Sherlock let go and grabbed something from a drawer. John didn't watch him. He trusted him; it was quite obvious.

And Sherlock made it simple. He just tied his wrists on his lower back and gagged him with a pumped-up butterfly-gag. He pulled him up and turned him around. He made him kneel and forced him chest down on the bed. He knelt between his legs and started with one finger. John groaned; he still wasn't used to this and was very tight. Sherlock at once felt for his prostate and started to rub over it. He quickly pushed his finger in and out and held John down. Soon he used two fingers spreading him open and then three. John was sweaty and quietly moaned by now. Sherlock used his free hand to stroke over his back and massage his cheeks.

Finally, he gave himself some strokes and lined up. Very slowly he forced his way inside. John's arse came up but Sherlock held him tight. His head came up and he groaned a bit more. Sherlock started to rotate his hips and it became better. Soon he stuck all the way inside him.

He grabbed his cock and started to fuck him. He actually fucked everything negative out of him and made him come first. He felt John's balls pull up and his arse tightened around Sherlock's prick. He bit his lips and came, as well.

John had slumped and his eyes were half-open. Sherlock carefully pulled out and used John's t-shirt to clean his thighs and behind a bit. He just put his cock back into his trousers and closed them. Only then he reached up and took off the gag. John didn't move, didn't get up. Only his eyes moved.

Sherlock stood and took off the rope around his wrists. His arms fell and he groaned quietly. Sherlock grabbed his hips and lifted him up and on the bed. He took his wrists and felt his pulse. It was slow but steady.

“Mfine...” He murmured. Sherlock moved his palm over his forehead and hair.

“I'll be right with you.” He quietly said and went quickly through his bathroom-routine. His clothes were all over the room and he took a quick shower. When he joined John in bed pulling up the blanket, he was already asleep. Gently Sherlock pecked a kiss on his lips and placed his head beneath his arm. He closed his eyes and breathed in John's scent. His arm was draped over his waist and he closed his eyes.

***

Mycroft and Greg stayed in the library for a little longer. They looked at each other. Mycroft didn't know what Greg expected. Greg knew that Mycroft didn't. He liked their dances around each other. He knew the moment he gave him a green light, Mycroft was the perfect dom. He wished that one day he would bottom for him.  
But for now, that wasn't on the agenda. For now, Greg just finished his drink and stood.

“Take me to bed, Sir?” Mycroft looked at him and felt much better at once. He stood and reached out for him. Greg took his hand and Mycroft once pulled hard. Greg stumbled into his arms and Mycroft moved his hand between his shoulder-blades. Greg bent over and groaned.

“Fuck...” Mycroft's free hand moved through his hair and took several strands between his fingers.

“Words, Detective Inspector. Mind your tongue!” He chided.

“I am sorry, Sir...”

“You can always make it better, you know? Have you brought your handcuffs?” Mycroft asked.

“Yes, Sir.” Greg answered.

“Show me, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft demanded. Greg reached for the handcuffs with his free hand and held them up.

“Very good, Gregory.” Mycroft took them and with a single flick, he closed them around his wrist. Another second later his hands were cuffed on his back.

“Much better. Don't you think so, too, Detective Inspector?” Mycroft asked looking between his legs.

“Yes, Sir, very much so.” Greg replied. He felt Mycroft's eyes on his groin and his cock twitched being very interested.

“Do not get your hopes up, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft smirked when Greg glared at him.

“Let's get upstairs.” He shoved him between the shoulders and Greg climbed up the stairs and into Mycroft's bedroom. He opened his belt and trousers.

“Get them down, Gregory.” Mycroft said and Greg shimmied his hips. His erection was rather obvious and he had already leaked into his boxers.

“Greedy, Detective Inspector.” He reached out again and pulled the boxers down. He quickly pulled his testicles making Greg jump and groan. He almost stumbled over his trousers but managed. Mycroft in the meantime opened the nightstand to retrieve the rope.

“Stand on that footstool. I don't feel like lowering my body.” Greg moved to stand on the footstool and it wasn't easy to get up on it with his trousers around his ankles. He had fantastic body-control and made it.

Mycroft took the rope and knotted it around his testicles. From there he crisscrossed over his cock and knotted it off right beneath the head. Greg really tried to stay still but his body shook.

“Stay.” Mycroft ordered and moved back to retrieve more ropes. Greg's eyes followed him. He had never been dommed like this. Mycroft was very, very special and he loved it. Him. His spine tingled and he felt hot.

Mycroft placed several items on the bed and looked at him.

“Hop down and come over here. Kneel in front of the bed and spread your knees.” Greg did as being told and slumped over. He didn't stumble and also didn't step out of his trousers. He knelt down and spread his legs as good as he could with his trousers around his ankles.

Mycroft stood behind him and carded through his hair. Greg closed his eyes and exhaled. Mycroft's hands moved from his head to his shoulders and moved his jacket over his arms. It dangled from his cuffed hands. Now he started to open the shirt-buttons one by one. This was only interrupted by his scratching over his chest and nipples. Greg quietly groaned.

“Stop making noises. I don't want to hear from you for now.” He intensified his teasing by pulling his nipples and twirling them. Greg couldn't suppress a rather loud groan. He quickly bit his lips but it was too late.

“Your behaviour is ghastly, Detective Inspector. I need to do something.” He picked up a ball-gag and pushed it behind his teeth. He buckled it tight. The shirt was pulled over his shoulders, as well. He reached into his pockets and retrieved some nasty nipple-clamps. From behind he clamped him. Greg shook some more and his shoulders hunched.

Mycroft climbed up on his bed and sat cross-legged in front of Greg. He just looked at him, let his eyes wander over his body. Greg felt scrutinised and horny. His cock was dark red and tried to burst out of the rope-harness. He heavily drooled and saliva ran over his chin and dropped on his chest.

“You look very much debauched, Detective Inspector. You should be ashamed. Are you, Detective Inspector?” Mycroft asked sweetly and used his long finger to lift up his head. Greg made a confirming noise nodding his head.

“I thought so.” Mycroft nodded.

“I also think you need to be shown your place. Do you agree, Detective Inspector?” Another question. Again, Greg nodded looking into his eyes. His own were quite bleary already and Mycroft almost lost himself inside those dark-brown eyes. He sharply inhaled and leant forward. His hands palmed Greg's face and he gently pecked a kiss on his forehead. Greg's eyes closed and he really tried to hold back his tears.

“Sh...” Mycroft kept holding him and moved his thumbs over his cheekbones.

“Look at me, Gregory.” Slowly he blinked his eyes open and heavily rested his head against Mycroft's hold. Saliva bubbled up from behind the ball-gag when he tried to beg.

Mycroft wondered if he had overdone it. By looking into Greg's exhausted face, he thought he had and decided to end this. He reached around his head and took the ball-gag off. Greg's jaw cracked and his lips stayed open.

Mycroft got off the bed and stood behind him. He crouched and took the handcuffs off. Rather quickly he pulled his jacket and shirt over his hands. He quickly pulled off both clamps and heard Greg's suppressed shout. He pulled him back against his chest and gently stroked over his abused chest.

“Get up with me. Come on, Gregory.” Mycroft slung his long arms around him and pulled him up. He quietly groaned and his legs trembled. He placed him on the bed and got off his shoes and trousers. Greg's head lolled over the mattress.

“Look at me, Gregory.” Slowly he focused and dark-brown met dark-grey eyes.

“There you are. I will touch your cock. Please don't kick your legs around.” Mycroft said and Greg giggled. Mycroft pulled at the bow around his cock and released the angry-looking piece of Greg. It kept hovering and was rather dark.

“Please...” Greg roughly begged and clawed into the bedding. Mycroft simply lowered his head and closed his lips around Greg's prick. The noise Greg made was more a shriek than anything else. It didn't take long. Mycroft had to hold him down while sucking him. The moment he moved his hand up and his fingers pinched his nipple, Greg came and emptied himself down Mycroft's throat. He moaned and trembled through his orgasm.

Afterwards, Mycroft looked up at him and saw the tears falling. Now he was worried. He quickly pulled him up into his arms.

“Are you hurt, Gregory? Have I hurt you? What's wrong?” Mycroft asked and Greg could only shake his head.

“No, not hurt. Feel...” He swallowed and cried some more.

Mycroft concluded that this had to do with emotions and he just accepted the tears and kept holding him.

***

Greg lost it after his nipples got clamped. He was focused on his middle and didn't know what was happening. He enjoyed the state of bliss. He only woke when Mycroft sucked him off and was shocked. He felt his wet face and knew he had been crying. He had been disappointing and slumped. He cried some more.

He had no idea for how long Mycroft held him against his body. His vision slowly cleared and he swallowed. He cleared his throat and tried to get up. Mycroft's arms tightened.

“What do you need, Gregory?” He asked.

“Water, please.” Greg croaked out his answer and was given a bottle. With shaking hands, he took it and drank it all.

“I am so sorry...” He said and sighed.

“Whatever for?” Mycroft asked.

“I disappointed you.” Greg quietly said.

“No, you did not. I was too hard on you. I should have made love to you. Instead I dommed you real hard. You had a long day, an exhausting time, you drove here and listened to everything. I just should have made love to you.” That statement made Greg turn his face and look into his eyes. Then he smiled.

“You could also kiss me.” Mycroft smiled.

“I could do that.” Their lips met and they kissed.

“You could still make love to me, you know?” Greg murmured between kisses. Mycroft's hands roamed over his body. He also quietly laughed.

“I wish I could, you know?” Greg carefully reached out for his prick.

“May I help you, Sir?” He cheekily asked.

“Please do so, Gregory.” Mycroft sank back into the bedding and closed his eyes. Greg gave him a handjob and kissed his inner thighs. His cock soon was coming up. Greg was quick. He needed only a few seconds to get on top. He held Mycroft's prick and slowly lowered himself down. Again, they locked eyes when he slowly started to move. Their hands entangled and Greg moved up and down riding the slim body beneath him.

Only when Mycroft felt he was close, he grabbed Greg and turned them. He placed his strong legs over his freckled shoulders and pushed into him. All the time he pulled at his prick and rubbed over his prostate. Greg panted and stared into his eyes. His hands were holding tightly to the bedding.

“Oh God, please! Faster! Please!” Greg begged. Mycroft did it and soon they came together. Mycroft fell down and closed his eyes.

“You will be the death of me...” He murmured. Greg quietly laughed. He turned his head and kissed him.

“I am a very happy man since you have manipulated my car.” Now Mycroft quietly laughed.

“You did not look or sound like it. I was very worried about my life back then.” Greg laughed louder. They looked at each other and kissed again.

“I love you very much, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft murmured into his mouth.

“And I love you, Myc.”

***

The next morning, they met for breakfast. They all looked at each other and finally Greg laughed out loud.

“We all look very well shagged.” He grinned. Mycroft had the decency to blush, Sherlock cast his eyes and only John giggled.

“I will retreat into my office to go through the files. Gregory, I believe you also brought work?” Greg nodded. Then Mycroft looked at Sherlock and John.

“I suggest you two enjoy yourselves. You could think about your future, for instance?” Sherlock didn't look up. John just tilted his head. He knew very well that Mycroft had already found his marksman. Greg would have brought files from work.

“Sherlock, perhaps you would like to help Greg? Solve a crime for him perhaps?” That made him look at John. Then he looked at Greg.

“Am I allowed to read those files?” He quietly asked. John could see though that he was interested. Greg was a bit surprised but by looking at John who pleadingly looked back at him, he decided to let him help.

“Why not? Come along and help me, if you like.” Sherlock looked excited but still looked at John for permission.

“If you are waiting for me to allow you to, you are wasting your time. You bloody well know; you are free to go.” John gently chided and Sherlock shyly smiled. But he stood and followed Greg without another word.

“I could join you while you are going through my file?” John offered and Mycroft just nodded. They went into Mycroft's office and sat behind his desk. He pulled up John's official army-file as well as his not very official files. John raised a brow and looked at Mycroft.

“How...” John started a question but then stopped and shook his head.

“John, my clearance is higher than the Prime Minister's.” Mycroft seriously said. For a moment he closed his eyes before he continued.

“And I will use everything in my power to destroy Sherrinford and his horrible business.” John nodded in agreement.

“I will tell you then what kind of weapon I would like to have.” Mycroft just shoved over the keyboard and they started to work out what needed to be done.

***

At first, Sherlock was a bit shy being all alone with Greg but it soon became better. Greg just pulled out the first folder and handed it over.

“This is a murder. We have several suspects but they all have alibis. In there is everything we have found and checked on. Read it, go over it, ask whatever you want. A fresh pair of eyes is always good.” Greg leant back and expectantly looked at Sherlock.  
He opened the folder and started to sort through it rather quickly. After he was done, he did it again more slowly. He also reached for paper and pen that Greg also provided. He scribbled names, numbers, and drawings on several sheets. Half an hour later he looked up.

“One of the suspect's alibis is wrong. He is the murderer.” Then Sherlock explained. Greg was in awe. It sounded very logical. He called his sergeant and had them check again. And Sherlock was right. Another hour later the sergeant called about the arrest. The man had already admitted the crime.

“You are the best!” Greg exclaimed with a broad grin on his face. Sherlock blushed.

“It was nothing really.” Sherlock shrugged and looked at his shoulder-bag.

“Is there more to look at?” He asked and Greg pulled out the next. This one needed even less time.

“How are you doing this?” Greg shook his head. Sherlock wasn't able to explain.

“I can see it. I can see all the mistakes and irregular things. I can see the lies and false constructions. I don't know how to describe it.” He helplessly looked at Greg.

“Can you walk me through it? Like think out loud? We could try with the next one.” He already held out the folder and Sherlock worried his lips.

“I can try.” He breathed and when taking the first document he started to talk. But he spoke too fast and almost without taking a breath. Sentence after sentence came out without a break and Greg wasn't able to follow. After Sherlock had ended and presented his solution, Greg was as clueless as before.

“I am stupid because I can't follow you... You make me feel like an idiot.” But he grinned saying so.

“I am sorry.” Sherlock didn't get it and stood. He even wrung his hands.

“What can I do to make it better?” He seriously asked. Greg looked at him and saw what his words had caused.

“Sherlock, it was a joke. Don't feel bad, OK? But I really could need a break.” He looked at his watch.

“It's afternoon already! No wonder I am hungry again. Do you think we could find something to eat?” He stood and rubbed over his stomach. Sherlock wasn't hungry at all. He was excited. But he knew he needed to appease Greg.

“We'll go into the kitchen. Cook will have left something for us. You know, Mycroft did send the staff away except for his security.” They entered the kitchen and found John already there. And he was preparing a late lunch.

“Jonny, you are a saint!” Greg exclaimed and hugged him from behind. It sent a stab of jealousy through Sherlock but he knew they were friends. Friends touched each other like this. John had told him. He exhaled slowly.

“What are you cooking?” He slowly came closer and John looked at him.

“Your favourite.” Sherlock smiled. He felt good, so very good. Mycroft joined them, too.

“Sherlock, Gregory, how did it work out?” He asked and hugged Greg.

“Your brother is a genius, Myc. Up to now, he solved half of the cases I brought. Some arrests have been made already.” His eyes were beaming. Mycroft looked at his brother and tilted his head.

“You liked to work with Gregory?” He asked.

“Yes, it was something new and interesting. I haven't worked on anything since university.” Suddenly he stopped talking and paled.

“Since you have been abducted.” Mycroft finished for him. Sherlock nodded being unable to utter a single word. John had stopped cooking and held him.

“Perhaps you have found yourself a job. You could be a detective after Sherrinford is gone.” Greg said.

“Do you really think I could do such a thing? I mean, I would be a former slave. No one would trust me.”

“You will be set free and I will let the public know what has been done to you. Your reputation will be just fine.” Mycroft said. John saw that Sherlock wanted to believe him. And he also liked the idea of him being a detective working with Greg. He would be busy. They could look for a place in London. Now John became excited, too.

“You won't have to do this alone. I will be with you. I will help. I could write about your cases, you see? People will come to you for help and you will solve Greg's unsolvable ones.” John said.

“This sounds wonderful...” Sherlock said quietly.

“I have found someone to take care of Sherrinford. I will arrange everything and it soon will be over.” John walked back to the oven again, so he wouldn't have to look at Sherlock while Mycroft explained his actions.

“You will have to endure another few days but I believe the crisis you two had is over now. You can do it because it soon will be all over. Am I right? Sherlock? John?” Both men nodded their agreement.

John thought about the high-tech weapon Mycroft had arranged for him. The 12.7 x 99 mm caliber sniper rifle G82 has an enormous range and, thanks to its semi-automatic recoil loader, can precisely reach targets at distances of up to 1,800 meters. This beauty would be perfect. He could easily make the kill from opposite Sherrinford's office. He could barely wait.

Mycroft could read his thoughts. He had already made the appointment with Sherrinford. The weapon would be delivered for his security and brought into his house in London. John would visit Greg and stay in the hotel. Sherlock would stay at John's estate. There was no discussion about it. Everything was settled.

They would stay for another night and then return home. Mycroft only hoped that John would keep the secret. He knew Sherlock, he could find out if he got suspicious. John wanted to protect Sherlock but he didn't want to lie to him.

***

The days passed and everything had been arranged. Sherlock surely had noticed that something was going on in John's mind but he wouldn't tell. Sherlock didn't ask. He didn't like the idea though that he would have to stay behind when John went to see Greg again. He wanted to come along but knew he would have to stay at the hotel again.  
They finally agreed that it really was better he stayed behind.

“I will call you every day, Sherlock. I miss you already.” John said standing beside his car with Sherlock. They kissed and finally John left. Sherlock waved until he couldn't see him anymore. He sighed and returned into the house.

***

John checked back into the hotel but this time all by himself. At once he was offered _company_ but he denied excusing himself with business appointments. Soon he went to see Greg and both of them visited Mycroft.

Mycroft had placed the weapon on the large table in the dining-room and John had a closer look. He stroked over it and gently touched it.

“You are scaring me, Jonny.” Greg said looking at him. Steely blue eyes looked back at him.

“That's why he is the right man for this job, Gregory.” Mycroft said.

“When will you do it? And where will I be and do what?” Mycroft took his hand.

“You will be at Scotland Yard doing your job. You won't know anything until it's in the news. John will be long gone by then and Sherrinford will be dead.”

“OK, I see. John, be careful. Mycroft, you, too. Call me as soon as possible.” He kissed Mycroft and hugged John. Then he left.

“What now?” John asked.

“The appointment with Sherrinford is tomorrow at 10 am. The weather forecast tells us there will be a clear blue sky with no wind or clouds. This is the key-card to the rooms right opposite his office. You can enter the building through the garage. The key-card works on the lift, as well. If you use it, the lift will directly reach your destination. It won't stop for anyone. The complete floor is empty. No one should disturb you up there.”

“What about the window?” John asked.

“Swipe the key-card beneath the handle.”

“Communication?” Mycroft shook his head.

“None. I can't enter his office with an ear-bud. He would know. He has a scanner through which each visitor has to go.” John thoughtfully hummed.

“So, no one will know I am there except you.”

“Exactly.” They locked eyes for a few seconds.

“Your car will be delivered by a standard rental agency by 9 am directly to your hotel. The weapon will be stored inside the trunk. Take it and leave at once.” John took the key-card.

“And Sherrinford is not suspicious at all because of the appointment?” John asked.

“No, not at all. We regularly meet because of the family business.” John snorted.

“I told him I had proof that he had been betrayed by some partners. He at once agreed to the meeting. I have several documents prepared, just in case.”

“I hate the fact that I have to leave the weapon behind.” John again looked at it.

“I will happily provide other weapons for you to play with after this is done.” John grinned.

“I will remind you of that.” Mycroft returned the grin for a few seconds.

***

That night John called Sherlock sitting on his bed.

“John! You must have been busy when you call that late.” He said.

“But now I am done. I miss you, love. I will be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“I can't wait.”

“What did you do all day?” John asked.

“I spent most of the time with Tristan.”

“I see. And did you eat?” John wanted to know.

“Yes, I had both lunch and dinner.” John hummed his approval.

“And what about tonight?” John asked.

“I will take a bath and will watch a docu on the telly about cold cases. The work with Lestrade has made me curious. I want to know more about it. Perhaps it can really be part of my future with you.” Sherlock said.

“I am glad to hear that. You do all of it. I will be thinking of you sitting in the whirlpool.” John replied.

“And I will be thinking about you thinking about me.” Both men laughed quietly.

“See you tomorrow, Sherlock. Good night.” John whispered.

“Can't wait. Good night, John.” They hung up and John closed his eyes. Sherlock's old life would end tomorrow. By killing Sherrinford he would set him free. He would burn the bloody contract in the fire-place and make Sherlock a free man again.

***

John slept well during the night. He was relaxed and calm. He had ordered room service and enjoyed breakfast in bed. He dressed into a dark suit and took a shoulder-bag. He had the key-card stored inside his wallet and looked at himself in the mirror.

At five minutes to nine, he left his room and rode the elevator into the lobby. He stepped outside and his car arrived the same minute. He was given the documents and keys and sat behind the wheel. The driver disappeared into another car and was driven away.

John almost felt the weight of the weapon in the trunk. He also felt like a soldier again, like being on a mission. And he actually was, wasn't he?

He rode into the garage and parked the car close to the elevator. He opened the trunk and took the case out. It was heavy and he would have to assemble the gun. He had done that already several times at Mycroft's place and knew how long he needed. He still had enough time.

He used the key-card and rode up. He left the elevator on the 36th floor and found it really was completely empty. He looked for office number 3699 and again used the key-card. He dropped his shoulder-bag and started to assemble the weapon.

He was absolutely calm when he looked at his watch. It was almost ten o'clock and he looked through the scope into Sherrinford's office. Mycroft had shown him a picture, just in case. John slowly adjusted everything needed until he was pleased. And now he could see him walking through his office while he spoke into a mobile. No, he actually yelled into the mobile. He was angry and aggressive meaning he would concentrate on something else, not the outside and not the fake documents.  
It would be an easy kill because Sherrinford's office was completely surrounded by windows. He was a show-off.

Mycroft knew where to position himself to not get into John's way. The only warning he would get would be the red dot pointing out the target. That would only work if Sherrinford stood clear to the window with Mycroft by his side. John didn't fancy that. But he would also stall for time, so John could get out of harm’s way.

He kept looking through the scope to see when Mycroft arrived. And there he was. John got ready and opened the window. He secured it and balanced the weapon on the sill. The weather conditions were perfect and John was pleased.

The weapon was loaded and again he looked through the scope to find the perfect position and moment to kill.

***

Mycroft had been driven to Sherrinford's office-building. He swung his umbrella when stepping inside the lift. His security waited in the lobby. This wasn't suspicious since they never came close to Sherrinford because he wouldn't allow it. Mycroft didn't mind. This building was absolutely safe. Until now. He snorted.  
Sherrinford's secretary offered him coffee or tea and he happily accepted tea. He also hoped for some cookies and wasn't disappointed. She brought everything on a silver-tray and placed it on a little table in front of him.

“I am sorry, Sir, but your brother still is on the phone. He will be right with you.” He nodded and drank his tea while he looked through several documents he had prepared for this meeting.  
After several minutes the door was opened and Sherrinford Holmes stuck his head out.

“Mycroft, come in.” There was no excuse. Sherrinford wasn't a very polite man but Mycroft was immune. It didn't matter to him. He stood and entered his office.

“Show me what you've got.” This was an order and only Sherrinford could speak to him like this. He held a lot of power and he knew it.  
Mycroft presented the fake proof and explained how he had _stumbled_ over it. Sherrinford stood right in front of a window and looked over London. No, he actually looked at the things which belonged to him. And he listened to Mycroft. He was concentrated on the story.

The moment Mycroft had stopped talking, he lowered his head and closed his eyes.

“The bloody Russians. I can't believe it. How can they be so stupid?” He didn't expect a reply.

“What have you done already, Mycroft?” He asked and turned to look at him.

“Nothing so far, Sherrinford. I needed to talk to you first.” Mycroft replied.

“Very well. I will think of something.” He stood in front of the window with his hands in his pockets. He was a tall man, just like Mycroft and Sherlock. He also was slim and rather good-looking. His eyes though were snake-like. And he shared the same intelligence, that was probably the reason why he feared Sherlock so much.

Suddenly Mycroft simply knew it would happen and he looked up and into Sherrinford's eyes. A second later his head exploded. Only then he heard the crack, the shot, and the ugly sound the bullet made when penetrating his skull and shattering his bones.  
He fell forward and ended up on the carpet. His blood and brain had sprayed quite far around him. Mycroft placed the cup back on the saucer and finished his cookie. Then he stood and looked at the corpse. Almost his whole head had been blown away. He was dead. It was over. Done.

***

Mycroft looked at the hole in the window. The bullet had moved somewhere between 750 to 900 m/s and had just left a perfect hole. He knew he couldn't show any emotion because there was CCTV everywhere. So, he just cultivated the image he had built up. He inhaled. Then he let out a fierce and very loud scream that brought the secretary inside a second later. She looked at Mycroft who was pale as death and then her eyes found her boss on the carpet. Her eyes turned back and she slumped down. His scream also brought Sherrinford's security up and Mycroft extremely enjoyed throwing up on them.

They called ambulances and police but Mycroft knew John had been long gone. He had asked Anthea to get into the building's CCTV system right after the police had been alerted because he wanted to look at the event later.

A nurse felt his pulse and he was given water and oxygen. His own security had come upstairs already and from the depths of their suits came up a toothbrush and toothpaste. He disappeared into a bathroom where he would be left alone. He brushed his teeth very thorough and thought about Sherlock.

***

Greg read the news at Scotland Yard and found out that the plan had worked. He was happy; happy for Sherlock. But he also felt bad. He shook the feeling off quickly enough. He badly wanted to speak with Mycroft because he had seen the ambulances and everything but he knew he couldn't. He wanted to text him but he knew he had to wait until being contacted. He sighed and got another coffee.

***

The only one who knew nothing of what happened in London was Sherlock. He had actually slept in and now had a late breakfast outside. Cook had made pancakes for him since she had found out he loved them.

Later he went to see Tristan and he actually rode him for a few hours today. He only returned after lunch and saw John's car parked outside the estate. He badly wanted to run and see him but he had enough discipline to take care of Tristan first.

“Don't be angry with me but I have to hurry. John is back, you know? Here, take this.” He offered some sugar-cubes and Tristan accepted. Sherlock left and ran up to the house. He dashed inside.

“John?” He called out for him and looked around.

“Library.” A maid passed by smiling at him when he thanked her and ran along. He stood panting in the door and looked at John who had just poured himself a drink. He turned around and somehow, he looked different.

“Sherlock, I wondered where you were hiding.” John seriously said and Sherlock crept closer.

“I was riding Tristan. I saw your car and came back inside as quickly as possible.”

“Come here, please.” He reached out for him and Sherlock took his hand.

“What's wrong, John? What happened in London?” John pulled him close and slung his arms around his slim body.

“Something very good happened. Sherrinford is dead.” John murmured against his body. Sherlock tensed.

“How did that happen?” Sherlock asked.

“He was killed.” John replied. Sherlock didn't comment but moved out of John's embrace.

“What did you do?” He placed his hands on John's shoulders and tried to catch his eyes. John roughly exhaled but finally looked up and into his eyes.

“I made you a free man. Look here.” He gestured over his shoulder and Sherlock saw the ashes inside the fire-bucket. He swallowed and let go of John. He knelt in front of the bucket and poked through it. He picked up a tiny piece of paper and was able to read the fragments _tract_ and _aver_. He looked over his shoulder at John.

“Was this my contract?” He roughly asked. John knelt down close to him.

“Yes, it was. You are a free man, Sherlock. You can be a detective, move to London and live your life.” The paper floated to the ground and Sherlock hid his face in his hands. His shoulders shook and he cried his heart out. John leant forward and held him. Soon he heard muttered words coming out of Sherlock's mouth.

“I don't want to leave you... I love you... Don't make me go away... Please... Please don't...” He sobbed and shook. John understood he had made a bad choice of words.

“I will come with you. We can look for a flat in London and live there. This can be left behind. I don't care. I just want to be with you. Do you hear me? We will go together.” John whispered the words and finally, Sherlock lifted his head.

“Really?” He sobbed out the one word and John nodded.

“Really!” He handed over a Kleenex that he had thoughtfully put into his pockets. Sherlock blew his nose and slowly relaxed again. He kept sitting on the ground.

“Get up and have a drink. I would like us to celebrate today.” John's knees cracked when he stood. He held out his hand and Sherlock got up, too.

“What about Mycroft? And Greg?” Sherlock asked.

“We made a plan together. Your brother arranged everything needed and I shot him.” Sherlock stared at John but took the offered drink. He downed it in one go and handed the tumbler back. John topped it up again and poured one for himself, as well.

“You didn't tell me...” He quietly said.

“No, I didn't. You couldn't know. You would have been worried and insisted on coming with me. I couldn't have done it with you in that horrible hotel.” John looked at him.

“You do understand me, don't you?” He asked.

“I do, of course, I do. And I am not angry. I actually don't know what I am right now.”

“Are you feeling sick?” John asked but Sherlock shook his head.

“No. In fact, I feel a little giddy.” A small smile came up and John was feeling better right away.

“So, the idea of living in London is something you would consider?” John carefully asked.

“But not without you. If you want to stay here in your beautiful estate, I understand. And I would stay with you.” Sherlock was serious.

“We will keep this estate. You will keep Tristan. We can come out here whenever we want.” John shrugged.

“ _We_? _I_ will keep Tristan? What are you talking about?” John cast his eyes and reached into his pocket again. He retrieved a small case and opened it. Then he went down on his knee and held it up for Sherlock to see.

“Sherlock Holmes, will you please marry me?” Sherlock's mouth stood open when he stared at the ring. Then he stared at John and swallowed.

“Yes, I will.” He croaked out the words and started to cry. Again. John stood and took the ring. He reached for Sherlock's hand and moved it over his finger.

“Yours?” Sherlock reached for it and put it on John's finger. Both men smiled.

Later they went into the dining-room and enjoyed a wonderfully prepared dinner by cook. Champagne was served and John enjoyed watching Sherlock being all happy and excited.

They celebrated during the whole night.


End file.
